#i am tired of nothing ever being enough. i want to find meaning. i want to live a life worth living
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quietblissxx · 1 year ago
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occamstfs · 22 days ago
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What You Really Want
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Milo mouths off about a man dating his long time crush before immediately learning the lesson that he should be less trusting of strange voices promising to fulfill his desires
Pretty standard straight to gay himbo/jockification! It will also be my final story for some time I believe, so I do hope you enjoy! -Occam
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“It’s no fair that they literally have it all.” Like many a ‘nice guy’ Milo has spent an inordinate amount of time skulking social media and disparaging more physically gifted men as he stumbles across them. The root of his despair is not difficult to ascertain, his eyes burning with envy make quite clear the inner monologue of ‘girls always date assholes.’ He sneers as he comes across the most recent post of his friend and crush, Juliet. The jealous man of course knows next to nothing about the character of James, the jock-type now dating her, but judging by the gleaming smirk and the bulky arms of a killer hanging from his shoulders, the judgemental dweeb has more than enough evidence to speculate.
Delving into his memories, Milo’s face burns with embarrassment as he recalls mentioning his crush to Juliet, ‘Oh!’ her bright eyes shift uncomfortably and her cheeks begin to blush enough to match the pink tint she threw on this morning. Milo’s fist clenches as she almost giggles in her discomfort, ‘sorry Milo I guess- Well, I guess I just thought you were gay?’ After this Milo played it cool, he thinks. Hand scratching the back of his head as he asserts his straight identity and the two go on to have a meal far more quiet and awkward than usual. When new-boyfriend James comes to pick up Juliet, Milo forces a smile before staring daggers at his back as the pair walk away. 
This brings us to the present hate scrolling session in which Milo is more than absorbed. Lips curl into a sneer as he traces the impossible to ignore curves of this must-be dullard’s defined body. Milo scoffs as he sees the litany of women that must make up the man’s dating history. “Bet they won’t even last a week, ha! I mean judging by how much the douche spends in the gym I bet he’s just using her as a beard anyway.”
With this final rather homophobic assertion, the nerd’s phone flashes before going dark, “What the-” before he has to determine whatever caused this, he goes stiff as a strange voice resounds through his head. ‘Tired of all the big boys getting what they want, hmm?’ Immediately concerned he’s lost his mind, Milo gets to powering back on his phone to call for help. ‘Now now, Milo. Do not worry your little head. I am here to help. Would you not like the chance to be just like them?’ Just like them. Envy burns through his veins greater than anything. Sensing this immediately, whatever this voice is seizes upon his clearly fragile psyche, its laughter steely and alien, ‘Ah ha ha. I thought so.’
Dropping his phone once more, Milo tries to drill the voice, “Wh- what are you exactly. Are you a dem- hm, an angel?” The voice answers almost before he even finishes the thought, ‘It matters not what I am. All that matters are your desires. Now. Do you wish to be all you desire, all this James embodies? All that he is in your head.” Miles gulps and almost starts drooling at the idea, just like James. Women at his fingertips whenever he wants, a body sculpted by the gods while keeping a far better mind than that oaf could ever afford. With next to no hesitation or forethought, Milo nods and the world goes dark.
When he awakens the poorly mannered man finds it’s the next day. His phone rests in his hand and when opened he finds it zoomed in on a picture of James’ meaty bicep. Milo rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside before going to stand. Making it halfway up he grunts in pain as he only then discovers morning wood more pressing and turgid than he’s ever encountered. Falling back down he clutches at the pain in his crotch from his cock being forcibly yanked by his underwear. Hands now grasping it he gasps as he finds it filling them far more than it has any right to. 
Well now, while they’re already down there he might as well have some fun right? After briefly struggling to get his waistband over his swollen package his mouth falls open in shock as he’s finally able to appraise the almost unrecognizable cock hanging from his crotch. It’s like none he’s seen before, not that he generally observes dicks of course. Far more impressive than he imagined a dick could be. His fingertips can scarcely meet his palm when he tries to grasp it, and as he begins rubbing it it feels leagues more sensitive than it has before now, as if nerve endings are multiplying. Looking to his awaiting phone he sees the photo of James and what’s her name as he begins masturbating outright.
Seeing a bulge in James’ strained pants he grunts as he returns to stare at his own suddenly substantial cock. More like him. The already thicker rod strains as he reflexively humps into his hand, forcing his grip wider as it expands to simply need more room. The new veins painting the length of his nascent ten inch dick surge higher up its length as he swears he can see them pulse and bulge with each racing heartbeat. Beneath his thrusting hands, bouncing as his hips continue to forcefully thrust with more strength than he has, his balls similarly grow heavier, larger as they send hormones flowing through him enough to metamorphosize and, more immediately, cause pre to stream and coat his fingers. 
Milo leans his head back as he is bursting with a need for release greater than he can understand. He shifts his jaw as it twinges with the pleasure of growth, widening and strengthening into one fit for titan. Below his newly defined chin, his neck thickens and moans grow deeper as an Adam's apple bulges out of his throat. Hearing his voice echo deeper throughout his bedroom, his heady pleasure comes to a head as he is struck with the bizarre urge to lick the pre off his fingers. Before he’s able to acquire or express shock and disgust, his eyes blast open and he is again staring at the image of James, more like- and he blows his load.
The moment of release may as well have shut him down once more, pleasure overloads him like a flashbang as every inch of his body feels at once. Drool drips from his plumper lips as his mind is fried and his hips continue to thrust without any input or awareness, sending stains across his wall and splattering into his darker hair as it begins to pull shorter and tint darker. Eyebrows thicken and cover more of his forehead as his brow hangs lower over his eyes staining brown and growing duller.
His whole form tenses as he finally achieves release, staring at the image of his, uh, competition. Arms flex as his hands crack wider, fingers stretch longer, skin grows rougher. For the first time in his life definition appears on his arms, biceps and triceps compete for which can increase faster, which can catch more eyes, which can rival those alluring arms of James. Beneath shoulders packing on weight are pits that darken with curls now thicker, a deeper brown nearing black as the forest strives to prevent any light from breaking the canopy. Similarly they moisten with the masculine heady musk that they are perfectly designed to disseminate, powerful enough to allure any twink towards his dick, or uh, huh.
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Milo moans as this seemingly intrusive thought makes itself at home in his morphing psyche. Barely returning to sentience enough to realize the stray gay thought, he arches his back and stretches as if he were waking up. Mindlessly he wipes the cum staining his larger hands on the new dark treasure trail as it itches and slowly inches up from pubes unshaved. Feeling the hint of an Adonis belt he sits up with a shock, the feeling of something he has long envied bringing back his awareness.
Despite the obvious differences it takes far too long for him to be aware of, to truly notice what has become of him. He struggles to make sense of the effort it takes to move his new larger limbs. He grabs at his new hair and sucks drool through his teeth as he tries to understand how it’s changed texture and color so totally, did he dye it and forget or what? The gears in his mind slowly turn as his fingers move to scratch an itch under his arms, struggling through the dank jungle of curls. Thoughtlessly he brings his sweat-wet fingers to his nose and grimaces. “Fuck man, I smell like an, uh, like a, unnh-” he moans quietly as he’s unable to even finish the sentence, instead an image of James forces its way to the front of his mind and two now-malnourished brain cells spark together and strain to form a thought.
“Oh fuck I’m turning into a imbe-, an uh imbekle? Ugh, an uh- a dumb jock.” Milo bites his lips and flexes an arm to try and assuage his nerves, to get his attention focused on anything but his anxieties. Fortunately to this end, seeing his bulging biceps he feels his larger cock begin to stir. Some semblance of rationality knows ceding to his wanting package is probably what led to this encroaching fog over his mind. His skin begins to prickle as all-around it grows more sensitive. Beyond these skin deep sensations it also seems as if darker hairs are beginning to spread out wherever his follicles will allow.
Seeing hair beginning to prickle his chest and blanket his legs his mind produces images of hairy men he has leered at through the years. His neck twitches as whatever dregs of the pathetic skirtchaser he once was rise up and try to combat his new predilections. He’s straight, he’s always been straight. Right? His mouth goes dry as he tries to remember ever having dated a woman in the past. Barring that, only just able to recall that something is happening to him, only just able to remember that he is transforming into some alien self, Milo tries to produce an image of what he used to look like. And he cannot.
His mouth falls open as it often does whenever he struggles to produce a thought, making it almost his default state. Mouth-breathing mouth ajar he fully experiences the thick air of his bedroom as it fills with his new musk. The room around him begins to dissolve and reform into surroundings that reinforce who he is now, that prove this is who he has always been. Clean pressed laundry dirty and shift into unwashed gym clothes that help cloud the room with his stink. Posters of whatever movies and video games he enjoys corrupt into images celebrating the impressive male form, all distinctly stained from the years of hanging on Milo’s bedroom walls. He hears clanking outside of his bedroom as bookshelves collapse and reform into weights heavier than he would be able to lift.
Milo stumbles to his larger feet and ignores the hefty weight of his balls and cock bobbing in the air as he drags himself out of his bedroom to find a mirror. He leaves sweaty footprints larger than any shoes he owns on the tile of the bathroom as he bumbles in. Leaning over the sink his lips quiver as he sees a razor clogged with hair darker than he feels he should have. Sooner than the doubts arrive they vacate as a thick, stubbled beard rapidly bursts onto his face. Looking up he smirks as he sees a thick mustache surges over his upper lip, looking just like the ones he appreciates,  just like he has always been into. His eye twitches and he grunts as his hair retracts once more into something far more intentional and stylish. At the same time pecs suddenly bulge larger and hang lower as Milo leans heavier over the bathroom sink. 
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His eyes glaze over as complex thoughts once more become too elusive in the face of his rising lusts. Muscles bulge larger as his back and legs creak, stretching him taller as thighs and shoulders widen and continue putting on mass. Feet spread like fins on the floor as his hands widen and sweatily slide on the ceramic sink. His mouth continues to water as he inspects all these increasingly masculine changes and his cock continues to throb. Milo bites his lip as new sensations arise from his cock once more, this time the change is apparent as his foreskin regrows, making his cock look even thicker as its head grows hooded and he struggles not to immediately break into masturbation at the powerful image of his own seductive form.
Milo’s barely functioning mind struggles to argue for any reason to not just return to the immeasurable delights of gratifying his all-encompassing urges. He stays his hands for a moment before the greatest horror yet rears its head. A monologue begins in his mind that is not his own, that cannot be his own. Dull laughter echoes through his increasingly vacant mind as a voice even slower and deeper than that which sounds from his new vocal chords, “Yooo broo come onnnnn. Give up, give in. This is what you wanted, ‘s what we wanted huhuhuh.”
He feels a pressure in his balls as they almost churn with the otherworldly need that seemingly always flows through him. He can’t help but imagine the men he’s going to bed with his new endowment, how many cocks he’s going to take in his new powerful ass. Drool trickles from his lips through the dense black stubble that coats his face denser with each second, with each breath. Spit continues down the length of his more defined face before dripping onto weighty, similarly furred pecs. His heavier hands slowly creep towards the hardening cock standing tall and long from the jungle of pubes. Before he’s able to assist his thrusting hips however, his lusty haze is interrupted by his phone chiming. His mind immediately thinks it must be James which fills him with conflicting emotions of rage and giddiness. “Ohh bro maybe he’s inviting us over. It’s been toooo long since we fucked huhuh-”
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Milo pointedly tries to ignore his hairier, bulkier reflection as he stumbles out of the bathroom to check his phone. Unfortunately he catches a glimpse which makes it all the more difficult to ignore the throbbing weight dripping, almost pouring, pre onto the floor. Despite it all he stands strong, quieting this other voice as it urgently tries to convince him to give in before he’s able to pick up his phone. In a final act of resistance, or perhaps impotence, he has the lofty idea of calling for help before his mind goes completely blank and, seeing the notification, he instinctually goes to his messages to find who texted him. It’s Juliet! 
First his heart flutters before he’s absolutely confused at the sensation. She’s just his bestie? Weird. He shakes off whatever that was and gets on to reading the message, “heyy girlie- which of these do you want me to post? Oh ya and lmao, are you and james cool if I do the last one?” At the mention of James his pulse again races and there are butterflies in his stomach far more powerful than whatever bizarre feelings he had but moments ago. No time to dwell, Milo starts swiping through the images sent. They’re a photoset of their little group outing to a halloween party last week, the trio, Milo, James and Jules dressed up as a group, as X-men! Respectively dressed as Wolverine, Cyclops and Jean Grey.
He smirks as he starts chubbing up again thinking of how easily he was able to pass as the hairy beast. His eyes then return to see James’ bubble butt in trademark spandex, which only makes it harder to not lose control then and there, moaning as he imagines playing with that ass. Holding to whatever well of willpower remains within him Milo holds strong and keeps his hands above waist level. Finally he gets to the specific image Juliet mentioned, one of him and James messily making out on the dance floor. James yanks at the hairy Milo’s hair, visor half hanging off as Milo reciprocates by shoving his hand into James’ pants. Fuck that’s hot.
Without even touching his needy cock, without any pleading from the new voice in his head, without a single chance to hold back. Simply from seeing the steamy image of him and James, Milo’s mind is overrun with memories and desires of the new man he is. The man he ever was and always will be. And for the second time today, but not the last, he loses control. Cum splatters against his phone as his mind goes blank anew with rushing pleasure. Painting himself once more with his most-used utensil he laughs dumbly as he realizes how swiftly he just came. Almost with pathetic haste, though now he’s quite unfamiliar with any sense of shame. The voice that only just wormed its way into his head spills from his mouth as it fully and forevermore wrests control as the true Milo.
“Huhuhuh guess I should work on my hair trigger,” He grunts as he looks at his phone and texts back some variation of ‘girl that’s porn you can’t post that!!!’ he turns his mind where it goes more often than anywhere in his new life. He wonders what James is doing and immediately texts him. Waiting for a reply Milo heads off to the gym to get a pump in before presumably going to meet him, not worrying about cleaning up or covering his scent. The gym’s for smelling like a man right? He certainly wouldn’t mind if everyone else followed his lead huhuh. Milo bites his lip trying to ignore his hardening cock as he makes his way out of the apartment clad in too-tight, stained gym clothes. 
Before he even makes it out the complex he gets a text from James and promptly changes course. Immediately Milo’s racing down the street to his lover’s apartment. Cock already snaking down his shorts and creating a stain at its nadir, Milo hopes he can keep his needy cock at bay until he makes it. Thinking of the alternative work out he’s to enjoy in bed with James, Milo struggles to not moan obscenely as he waddles as quickly as he can into the lobby of James’ building. Heart racing with excitement he can’t wait to see James in person. Jittery with nerves, it feels like he’s going to meet the man for the first time. Hah! Milo promptly ignores the idea and starts to get some stretching in before their session. Trying to practice mindfulness with a mind thicker than mud he quickly finds himself possessed with memories of their countless times fucking in the past. Easy enough as the pair have been doing so for years. Still nerves assail him as his cock continues to strain his shorts. As the elevator doors click open he smirks as he was able to make it this far without blowing his third load of the day. His cock throbs with anticipation for its release soon to come, and impatiently awaits each and every similar session to follow.
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jweekgoji · 27 days ago
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Hello! Can I request a nsfw cogged Orion pax x cog less femme reader ? I was thinking after he came back from the surface to his miner friends.
Cogged!Orion/Cogless!Femme!Reader [TFO]
tw: size difference, valveplug (MDNI), soft and inexperienced!Orion, sub-ish!Orion at the start, first time, awkward intimacy, size kink. word count: ~1800 a/n: uni work makes me a little more busy now, but i hope i am not making you wait for too long. i tried to read it a few times and check for mistakes, but i'm eepy so...
Orion likes to touch. The way he gently places his servo on one of his friend's shoulders or lightly taps their frame to get the attention, it's how he used to show his care towards someone, to bring comfort. Growing up and being surrounded by many bots, some so friendly or not, it was natural for him to become the most tactile bot you ever met.
With you, it is only worse. The young troublemaker just can't stand a minute without having his servo around you, because that's how he is, so clingy and needy of the same affection and closeness with you.
You can't remember at least a one day when he wouldn't approach you with a surprise hug from behind, often pulling you closer to his chassis during a short breaks from working in mines. Even though every day he was risking his own life for the better of Iacon, sometimes even smacked by your supervisors, he never lost this innocent smile on his face. What more does he need in his life when he has you next to him?
Orion is the real definition of the sunshine person, the natural-born leader, always everywhere at once, seeking for more trouble the second you look away from him.
When he is so close, servos around your waist, his chassis against your own, you find it difficult to stare for too long into those big, bright blue optics of his, you feel your own one straining as if you had been looking for too long at the Sun.
Now the same intimacy between the two of you feels different, somehow, the touch is as gentle as before, but the usual brightness of his optics is not the same. Orion himself now looks different.
Stronger, taller, mature...tired?
A lot had happened in that short time he had on the surface of your home planet, so you never press on him to tell you more about than he wants. Right now, he wants to cling to the bits of comfort you can provide. How much he wants to hug you tighter, just to express that suppressed desire for warmth and solace.
Orion's hold around your waist tightens just a little more before he slowly relaxes. He notices how his servo is large enough to wrap around your entire waist now.
He knows you're strong, no matter the difference in size or lacking the cog, it doesn't make you any less strong than him. If anything,  the position you are in makes him more vulnerable than you ever have been. It's almost cute how quickly he pulls his servos from you after holding you a little tighter than he intended to, already looking all awkward and guilty, like a kicked puppy.
“Sorry, didn't uh...” he pauses for a moment, his optics shyly flickering to one side and to the other, then going back to your face. “...didn't mean to do that.”
How can he be so afraid to touch you now? As if you were made of a fragile glass? You couldn't help but huff, placing your servos on his face, your thumbs gently moving over the smooth metal of his helm. That tiny little «ears» he had now much longer, as you note silently in your mind, and that almost makes you want to gently tug at them.
Orion leans into your touch, closing his optics and relaxing, as he lets you caress him. In a position like this, when you straddle his thigh, he has nothing against letting you do whatever you want with him. Makes it easier to focus on the feeling and relax, rather than the constant fear of doing something wrong.
You can feel Orion's servo carefully placed over your own, his digits circling over your wrist in an almost soothing manner.
If only someone could see you two right now, such a big bot like him, melting under the touch of the small no-cog? And you were the one, acting all gentle towards him? The thought makes him shiver in pleasure, just staying with you like this is enough to warm his spark.
You lean closer for a kiss, struggling to reach for his face, until he tilts his head down, meeting your lips. A quiet groan escapes from him once you press yourself closer. If you try to listen intently, you might hear how fast his spark is beating in his chamber right now.
His servos slide lower, moving over the sides of your frame, only to stop to rest on your thighs, digits gently squeezing the soft plating.
There's something in his mind wanting more of it—that just those innocent, butterfly like kisses and tight embraces aren't enough, his spark practically yearning for your body against his.
But he can't tell you this, can he? He doesn't want to sound too greedy, too pushing, you probably aren't ready for him...for this. He never wants to make you feel uncomfortable. Orion would rather let you do everything at your own pace, no matter how agonizingly slow your servos move over his frame right now. It seems like a silent torture once you start teasingly moving your index finger around the center of his chassis, where the empty slot for his t-cog once was.
Orion tilts his head back a little, servos visibly trembling, as if trying to ground himself from flipping you underneath him and finally having his way with you. The silent struggling doesn't go unnoticed by you. Even though it was obvious to both of you, how much he wants to continue and ask for more, but he refuses to beg for it. He feels too shy, too scared to ask it from you, stubbornly suffering in silence.
Luckily for Orion, you might be no less stubborn than him as you begin gently grinding against his thigh. Slowly, carefully at once, just to concentrate on his reaction to this. You were ready for him to tell you to stop or to pull away immediately, but your concerns disappeared as soon as you heard a soft, strangled moan.
“Don't stop,” he manages to say between heavy breaths, optics half-lidded as he looks at you.
It's almost like he was waiting for it for cycles, given how quickly he wraps his servos around your thighs, only to position you between his legs, your back now pressed against his chassis.
He knows you're small, with him being almost twice your size, there's no way you would be able to take his spike without hurting you. Just thinking of it, of accidentally making you hurt at the moment as special as this...—
“It's fine” you murmur softly in response, leaning back against him. "Let's start little by little at first."
Orion only nods silently, and you can almost spot a tiny blue tint on his cheeks the moment he finally opens up his interface panel for you. A mech his size, and here he is, nuzzling his face against the top of your head in weak attempts to hide his own shyness, and that could not but encourage you to continue.
You lower yourself a little, so your valve could gently grind against the tip of his spike, already glistening with droplets of transfluid. You wonder, how long has he been like this, trying to ignore his own needs when you were right beside him?
A thin line of lubricant spreads around your entrance, mixing with your own wetness, now making you shudder at the burning, hot feeling, seeping into your frame. It is so unfair, the way you are so, so close and at the same time, so far away from where he desperately wants you to be. It's too much to bear.
You are so tiny compared to him, he can't help but remind himself to always be careful with you. Not to hold you too tight, or maybe not to accidentally break you the moment he can finally push his spike deep into you. No, no, don't get too tempted with ideas, Pax!
Orion groans softly, breathing a hot air against the crook of your neck. You're barely doing anything, and somehow, it is just too much. You can feel his spike desperately twitching against your folds, as if silently begging you to take mercy on him. He grinds against your entrance once more, rubbing the tip until he lines up with your valve.
He carefully thrusts up into you, the tip of his spike slipping in and out, just a fraction. It takes all of his self-control not to give in to the urge to thrust up into you, to bury himself inside you till the hilt. Even then, he is grateful for everything you give him.
“So good, so good around me, sweetspark,” he praises, planting a soft kiss on your neck, muttering your name over and over again in sync with a slow roll of his hips.
Orion groans as you continue to meet his thrusts, moving your hips against his own. The thought of his sparkmate, so smaller than him and yet you're taking him so well. There’s no mistake, Primus himself blessed him with you, with how perfect you are for him, everything in you is flawless. There is no way you weren’t created and destined to be his.
He looks down at you, an obvious fascination and adoration in his optics once he meets your own. The sight of you, almost salivating from pleasure alone is enough to push him over the edge.
It feels much more intense for you than you could have imagined. Each slow, tender thrust makes you arch your back as he stretches your insides. You already struggle to take him like this, with not even a half of his size inside you, yet you're already a shaking and whining mess on top of him. So full.
You let out a soft mewl once Orion thrust into you again, and that was enough to suddenly bring you to overload. You pant softly, closing your optics for a moment to catch your breath. Poor, poor tiny thing, didn't even fully realize how close you were already with how good his spike felt inside you.
You feel him throb inside you again, and you tense up at the realization. He didn't reach his own release.
Orion notices your slightly panicked state when you gently try to sit up again, only to slump back against his chassis, too tired to move for now. Despite everything, he's happy. He's so, so lucky to have you right now. It's so adorable how you immediately think of his own pleasure, a second after your own overload.
“Don't worry about me,” he gently kisses the top of your helm, his servo soothingly rubbing your thigh. “It brings me more pleasure to watch you like this.”
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pedrospatch · 2 years ago
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not a thing l part ii
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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part i
summary: You fess up and tell Joel about how Ellie overheard the two of you during the private moment you two had in the woods; Ellie confronts Joel about you while you’re asleep in the truck.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. IMPLIED AGED GAP (no specific age mentioned for reader, Joel is canon age) Joel is kind of an asshole, Ellie is a wiseass, mentions of Tess.
word count: 4.7k
a/n: decided to write a second part to the first Joel fic that i ever wrote! i am so, so stunned that one fic turned into more and that people actually want to read my stuff for Joel/TLOU. thank you all sm for everything and for interacting with me and my content. it means a ton!
“Think this might be a good time to stop?” Joel asked you, quietly.
You hummed, glancing back over at Ellie through the rearview mirror.
Even through the darkness inside the small cab of the pickup truck, it was almost too painfully obvious as to how fucking exhausted the girl was and how much this journey had already taken out of her after only just a few days on the road. Although she was on the smaller side and had an ample amount of space to stretch out her limbs, lay down, and get a decent night’s sleep in the backseat of the truck while you and Joel both took turns driving through the night, Ellie had expressed to you on more than one occasion that she’d rather stop to make temporary camp somewhere for a few hours and continue the drive in the morning once everyone had the chance to take a break. You honestly couldn’t blame her, not even if you tried—it was taking its toll on you too, a lot more than you let on to both Joel and especially to Ellie.
Being the adult, you kept your complaints to yourself, but the truth of the matter was that at the end of each day, you were also getting sick and tired, so damn sick and tired, of the ungodly amount of time that you were spending cooped up in the pickup, just sitting on your ass.
Sure, it may have been a little bit of extra work and it was keeping the three of you from reaching Wyoming as fast as Joel would have liked given the nature of the smartass, teenaged cargo you two had on your hands—but you also preferred to stop and make camp for the night.
After realizing that Joel was still waiting for a response, you nodded.
“Yeah, we should probably call it for the night,” You told him, glancing down at the map of the country in your hands. The three of you made it to the state of Indiana; Missouri was your next planned stop to find gas to siphon and refuel, and even though it was just a little less than six hours away, you figured an early morning wakeup call could have you all there by tomorrow afternoon. “Only problem about a state like Indiana is that it’s flat as fuck. There’s nothing but wide, open grassy fields around here.” You peered out of the window, then turned back to Joel, frowning. “Think we’ll find a safe enough spot?”
“We’re just gonna have to make do with what we got,” Joel stated as he carefully veered the vehicle off of the highway and to the left, onto the aforementioned grassy field. “You think about a mile out from the highway is decent enough? Mile and a half, maybe?”
“Let’s make it two,” You suggested. You neatly folded up the map and stuck it into the glove compartment in front of you. “I doubt we’ll run into anyone or anything out here in the middle of nowhere, but might be best not to risk being too close to the highway, just in case.”
He looked over at you, nodding his head in agreement. “Two it is.”
“Aww, teamwork,” Ellie teased from the backseat. “How fucking cute.”
“It’d be real cute if you’d shut up,” Joel quipped. Once he pulled the truck about a couple of miles out onto the field, he came to a stop and then cut the engine. “We’re gonna take a breather for a few hours,” he said to Ellie over his shoulder. “But only for a few hours, and not a minute more. Come sunrise, we need to get movin’ again, understood?”
She saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain. Whatever you say.”
The second that you hopped out of the pickup, you started shivering. The chilly evening breeze nipped at any patch of exposed skin it could find. The days had been pretty decent, but at night, the temperatures would drop drastically—it couldn’t have been warmer than forty or so degrees. Instinctively, you reached into the top of your pack, pulling a second jacket you carried for yourself out of it. You handed it over to Ellie and instructed her, “Put this on. Cordyceps infection might not have taken you out, but hypothermia will.”
She took it from you, shooting you a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.”
Joel eyed the interaction, his lips pursed together in displeasure.
He didn’t want you and Ellie getting attached to one another, but he feared it was too late. The girl had taken an instant liking to you and you seemed to have taken a liking to her too. “Here.” He tossed Ellie her blue sleeping bag. “Go lay down on the other side of the truck.”
“I’m already so fucking itchy just thinking we have to sleep here.” Ellie wrinkled her nose down at the grass under her shoes. Lifting her head, she took a glance around before turning her attention to you. It was written all over her face, evident in the way she started to shuffle nervously from foot to foot; she was afraid. “I feel so exposed. Are we really going to be safe? There’s fucking nothing out here, not even a single tree. What if someone finds us while we’re all sleeping?”
Before you could reassure her, Joel stepped in.
“No one is goin’ to find us out here,” he grouched. “We’ll be safe. Now quit your complainin’ and go get settled for the night. And don’t even think of askin’ me for a fire in the middle of a goddamn field. Got it?”
Ellie rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, it’s fine. You know, I’m actually kinda starting to get used to freezing my fucking ass off anyway.”
You lifted a hand to your mouth, trying to hide your snort of laughter.
She was too fucking quick for her own good.
Joel glared at you. “What? You think she’s funny?”
“Actually, I think she’s fucking hilarious,” You shrugged, causing him to let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s true! She’s made me laugh more in the last week than I have in the last two fucking decades.”
Ellie beamed at you. “At least someone still has a sense of humor.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” he snapped, irritably. “Both of you.”
She leaned over towards you, muttering the question right under her breath, “Jesus, has he always been this fucking crabby?” She nudged your shoulder with hers. “You must have the patience of a fucking saint to be able to deal with this on the daily. I would have killed him by now and then offed myself too with that fucking attitude.”
He stepped towards her. “What’d you just say—”
“Ellie.” Although you tried your hardest to reprimand her, instead, you found yourself fighting back another laugh. “Come on, let’s go before he strangles us both.” Taking her arm, you started leading her around to the other side of the truck. Dropping her arm, you reached for your own sleeping bag from the bed of it and started rolling it out. Though you were still fighting back a fit of giggles, you found it in you to offer her some words of advice. “Ellie, I know Joel is not the easiest person to deal with, but you really have to stop giving him so much shit, kid. The man has enough gray hair as it is. Take it easy on him, will you?”
“But I need to keep myself entertained somehow,” she replied with a small, innocent shrug of her shoulders. She unrolled her own sleeping bag, laying it out right beside where you had laid out yours; you saw a pensive look cross her face and after a second, she moved it closer to yours, leaving about a one inch gap of space between the two. For as scared shitless as you had been to take someone like her under yours and Joel’s care, the mere fact that Ellie seemed to feel safer being so close to you must have meant you were doing something right.
“Jacket,” You reminded her.
“I know, I know.” Ellie tugged on the spare jacket that you’d given her just minutes ago, zipping it up to her chin. She yawned, crawling into her sleeping bag. Before rolling over onto her side, she stopped and a tiny, tired smirk tugged at her lips as she looked up at you. “Wait. You and Joel aren’t going to bone each other tonight, are you? Because I might actually have to suffocate myself in this thing if you do.”
You sighed heavily. “And here I thought you were actually going to do me the favor of never bringing it up ever again.”
“What can I say? Giving you shit is almost as fun as giving it to Joel.”
You nudged her lightly with the toe of you worn, brown leather boot, chuckling as you told her, “Go to sleep, you little jerk.”
“Remember. Protection.” Ellie yawned again, rolling over. “G’night.”
“Goodnight, Ellie.”
The minute that you heard her soft snores coming from inside of the bag and you were certain she was asleep, you made your way back to the other side of the truck where you found Joel busy loading up and checking his rifle. Thankfully, hadn’t seemed to have heard what Ellie had just said to you. “I’ll take watch tonight,” You offered, holding out your hands and beckoning for the weapon. You instantly noticed the all too familiar look of protest on his face. “Joel, you were the last one to drive today and you’re fucking exhausted. Just let me take watch.”
“The whole damn point of me drivin’ all the way out here was so we can all get some rest without worryin’ about anyone findin’ us,” Joel reminded you. “And besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on standin’ watch. I was just makin’ sure this was ready to go, in case of an emergency.”
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Joel, please. I know you like I know the back of my own goddamn hand and I already know that I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and I’m going to find you standing watch, regardless of how safe you say we are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.” You continued holding your hands out for the rifle. “Look, my arms are getting tired here. Can you just give me the fucking gun please?”
“You need sleep—”
“We can swap places in a couple hours,” You compromised. “Deal?”
Knowing that you could be just as stubborn as he was, Joel grumbled something incoherently under his breath before finally shoving it into your waiting hands.
“Thank you. Now, was that really so hard?”
Joel scoffed, shoving past you. He reached into the bed of the truck and grabbed his own sleeping bag. “You really need to stop talkin’ to the kid so much. She’s startin’ to rub off on you and I don’t like it.”
“Sweet dreams, Joel,” You replied, watching as he stalked around to the other side of the Chevy where Ellie was fast asleep.
An hour later, you found yourself leaning against the cab of the truck, the sound of chirping crickets your only companion. You held the rifle gently, but still firmly in your grasp, your index finger gingerly resting on the trigger. You tilted your head backwards, gazing up at the stars in the velvet night sky—you tried not to let your mind wander off very far, but you couldn’t help thinking of what Ellie had said to you earlier that morning back in the woods.
He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you.
She was wrong. She had to be wrong. She was fourteen, she was just a kid, after all. Besides, what the fuck could she possibly know about you and Joel, especially after only having been with the two of you for about a week?
Ellie was sorely mistaken.
Joel only kept you around for his benefit.
And the meaningless sex wasn’t the benefit you were referring to.
Joel had always been the brawn, but both you and Tess had been the brains of the operation. That’s how it had always been, at least for the better part of the last few years. You might have been on the younger side in comparison to your smuggling partners, but for some reason, Tess had seen something in you—what it had been, you never had the opportunity to find out, but it made her take a chance on you.
Against Joel’s wishes, she decided that she would take you under her wing; at eighteen years old, you’d been closer to being a child than an adult, but that only meant your mind was still pliable, and she could work with it. By the time you reached your twenties, it was apparent that Tess had all but molded you into a miniature clone of herself—she’d shown you how to think outside the box, taught you how to be persuasive, how to keep trades or deals from going south, and most importantly, what to do if they somehow did go south.
Now that she was gone, you were all that Joel had left. You were what he was stuck with. After Tess died, there was a part of you that had to wonder if Joel felt the wrong person had been infected and killed. It’s not that you thought that Joel would rather it was you who were dead but the reality was that if he’d been given the choice between having you or Tess at his side for this, you were certain it wouldn’t be you.
But he hadn’t gotten a choice. 
It was you he ended up with, and you were his only shot at getting to Tommy and getting Ellie to where she needed to be. He needed help, and now that Tess was no longer here, you were the next best thing.
That was it.
A rustling sound nearby pulled you out of your train of thought. You immediately lifted your head and pushed yourself away from the cab, readying your weapon. You took quiet, careful steps and then sharply turned the corner around the bed of the truck, aiming the rifle at the figure in front of you with your finger still on the trigger.
“Fuckin’ relax!” Joel hissed at you, holding his hands up. “It’s me!”
“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled a sharp breath, lowering the gun. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You scared the fucking shit out of me, Joel! I just about shot your head off of your shoulders!”
“Your aim ain’t all that good, darlin’,” Joel stated as he walked up to you, a slight hint of amusement in his Southern drawl. “You keepin’ watch or zonin’ out over here?”
You ignored his teasing remarks. “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
Your heart squeezed tightly in your chest as Joel fell into step in front of you, an all too familiar lustful glimmer in his eyes.
“Couldn’t really sleep,” he stated with a shrug of his is shoulder. “Had somethin’ on my mind. But from the looks if it, I ain’t the only one lost in thought.” He peered down at you. “What were you thinkin’ about, anyhow?”
“Nothing,” You fibbed. “Just, uh, just how fucking cold it is.”
Joel reached for the rifle, taking it out of your hands. He leaned over and placed it in the bed of the truck behind you. “And you tell me that I’m a shitty liar?” he asked with a small scoff. “Let’s pretend that for a minute that I actually believe that’s what you were really thinkin’ about.” With every word that he spoke, his voice became lower, huskier. “If the cold is what’s on your mind, I know a couple different ways I can help get your mind off of it.”
“Joel—”
“C’mere.” He hooked his index fingers through two of the front belt loops of your blue jeans, yanking you forward until you came crashing against his chest. He dipped his head, his lips eagerly meeting an exposed patch of skin on your neck. As he kissed and nipped at the delicate flesh, he started to move his hands from the belt loops of your jeans over to the buttons instead.
“Joel, wait,” You mumbled weakly, cursing how your body just always seemed to melt right in his fucking hands. “Joel, stop.” You’d said it so softly into his failing right ear that he hadn’t heard you.
Joel’s mouth left your neck, finding your own mouth instead in a way that made every single nerve in your body light on fire. He started to walk you backwards until your back hit the bed of the pickup, a soft thud noise filling the air around you. He pinned you tightly between it and himself as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily. The physically intimate moments that you two shared over the years had always been relatively short due to never having the time nor the place, but maybe that’s why he kissed you the way that he did—with such urgency, with such desperation, as if his fucking life depended on it. Because it never lasted as long as he would have liked and he never knew when he would be able to get his hands on you again.
Breaking away from you slightly, Joel placed his hand on your hip, his index finger grazing the soft skin right above the waist of your jeans as he murmured breathlessly against your lips, “I want you. I gotta have you. Right fuckin’ now.”
It took just about every last ounce of strength that you had inside you to place both of your hands on his chest and gently push him back. “I don’t think we should do this, Joel. Not with Ellie being so close by.”
“She’s asleep.” He frowned, taking your hands off of his chest as he took several steps back from you looking dejected. “Unless you just don’t want—”
You were quick to stop him. “Of course I want you.” You swallowed, your throat having gone dry. “It’s just that—see, the thing is that—”
“Fuckin’ spit it out.”
So you do.
“Ellie knows, Joel.”
“What?” Even in the darkness, you could see the color draining from his face. “How?”
“Look, I really didn’t want to tell you about this. But last night in the woods when we were—” You trailed off, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost anxiously.
“She saw us?”
“She heard us,” You corrected him. “She confronted me about it this morning before we left. I pretty much made her promise to keep her mouth shut because I didn’t want her saying anything to you about it. I didn’t want her giving you grief like she did to me.”
Joel ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “That little fucking shit—”
“It’s not her fault, Joel. And you know that. We shouldn’t have done it with her being so close by.”
You watched as he dropped his hand from his head, his jaw clenched.
“Joel, come on. Please don’t be mad about this.”
Joel fixed his eyes on the ground and tightly shook his head. “Go get some sleep. I’ll take over watch.”
“But Joel—”
“Just drop it,” he said, rigidly, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “Go.”
Knowing better than to push it, you simply nodded. “Okay.”
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The moment you crawled into your sleeping bag next to Ellie, you’d tried your absolute hardest to get some shut eye, but what happened with Joel had you much too worried, and rightly so. Still, you prayed for sleep to come, but it never did and the rest of the night dragged on for what felt like a fucking eternity.
Hours later, when sunrise finally came around, you got up to find Joel had already been packing up the pickup truck, getting it ready for the long drive ahead. The second he saw you approaching him, he simply told you to wake Ellie because the three of you needed to get a move on sooner rather than later. After that, he’d hardly said another word to you.
He couldn’t even fucking look at you.
Halfway to Missouri, during a quick pitstop, Ellie had noticed the odd tension in the air between you and Joel. She’d also noticed how tired you looked. She offered to trade places and sit in as Joel’s copilot for the rest of the day, at least until you reached Kansas City.
“I think he’d actually prefer you as his copilot,” You’d muttered to her in reply, hopping into the backseat. Between the motion of the truck, the soft country music playing from another tape Ellie found, and the open windows bringing in fresh, crisp air, you’d curled up into a little ball in the backseat and passed out within minutes.
Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you, making sure you were actually asleep before turning to Joel. “She told you, didn’t she?”
“Zip it,” Joel ordered. “Ain’t none of your business.”
Ellie hummed. “Well, seeing as I had the absolute delightful pleasure of having to hear the two of you go at it like a couple of cats the other night, I think it actually is kind of my business now.” She paused. She could physically feel the way he was wincing beside her, though what was causing him to be so uncomfortable was left to be determined. Ellie would imagine that it was getting caught in the act itself, but for some reason, she sensed there was a lot more to this mess than met the eye and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. “She told me that you guys aren’t a thing—”
“We’re not a thing. We’re nothin’ at all, alright?”
Ellie blew a raspberry. “Yeah, alright. I see you’re both sticking to that story. That you’re not a thing.” She raised her fingers in quotations.
“It ain’t a story, it’s the truth. We’re nothin’ more than just a couple of smuggling partners tryin’ to get you to where the you need to be.” He glanced at her briefly, then turned back towards the road. “And if you want to make it there unscathed, I suggest you shut your mouth and focus on that map in your hands instead stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“I think I at least deserve an explanation after you two put me and my innocent little virgin ears through the wringer.”
“Ellie,” he warned.
It was almost kind of scary how she was already used him saying her name in that tone already. “You’ve been treating her shitty as fuck today, you know.”
Joel frowned. Even though he knew he didn’t need to defend himself to a fucking teenager, he found himself doing it anyway. “The hell are you talkin’ about? I haven’t said a single fuckin’ word to her today.”
“Exactly.” Ellie pointed her index finger at him. “It’s bothering her.”
“She’s a big girl, Ellie. If somethin’ is botherin’ her, then she can come and talk to me about it. She doesn’t need some kid helpin’ her out.”
“That’s the thing. She can’t talk to you about it.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Well, you’re not exactly the most approachable guy, dude.”
Joel gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Why the fuck do you care so much, anyway? You have other things to worry about. Like findin’ the fuckin’ Fireflies and helpin’ them create a vaccine that’s supposed to save the goddamn world.”
“Because,” Ellie said, refusing to allow him to change the subject, not when she felt like she was finally getting somewhere. “I like her. She’s a good person.”
Joel glanced up at the rearview mirror and looked at you as you slept soundly. He couldn’t deny that. Even in this shit world, even after the things you’d seen and all the people you’ve lost, you really were still a good person. You still hadn’t lost touch with your sense of humanity—that was one thing Tess never managed to change about you, the one thing that kept you from being identical to her, identical to Joel. You somehow hadn’t let this world turn you into stone, and maybe that is why you meshed well with them from the start. You brought this odd kind of balance that they hadn’t even known they needed.
That Joel didn’t know he needed.
“She likes you.” Ellie’s voice caused him to snap back to reality. “Lord fucking knows why.”
“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, did I offend?” Ellie quirked an eyebrow, feeling a teeny smirk tug at the corners of her mouth. “Listen. All I’m saying is that she’s really young. And she’s really pretty. She’s nice, and smart as fuck, too. I bet she could probably have any guy that she fucking wants.” Her smirk only grew noticing how her words had gotten a rise out of Joel. Ellie could tell by the way his fingers had the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles ghost white. “And yet for some reason, she chooses to stick with you, you old fucker.”
“Listen here you little shit—”
She quickly held her hands up. “I’m just saying. She’s a good one, Joel.”
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I know she is.”
Bingo! Ellie thought to herself. Now we’re making progress.
“So, then why not treat her the way she deserves? Why just—what’s that saying? Hit it and quit it?”
Joel tossed a glare at her. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“I’m not wrong though. That’s what it is, isn’t it?” Ellie prompted.
“No!”
“But just a minute ago you said you two were nothing. So if you two are boning, but you’re nothing, that’s like a hit it and quit it, isn’t it? Or is it a fuck it and chuck it? Hump it and dump it?” She scratched her head, wracking her brain as she tried to figure it out. Beside her, Joel was about ready to implode. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right because you guys do it all the time. You’re not actually quitting it. So, it’s hooking up, right?”
“I swear to Christ I’m gonna make you fuckin’ walk to Wyoming if you don’t shut—how the fuck do you know all that? That what they teach you kids in FEDRA school?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Ellie grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. “Level with me, old man. Do you like her or not?”
Joel’s teeth were gritted together, his sights fixed on the road ahead.
“Or do you love her?” She practically sang.
“Ellie.” He said her name warningly once again, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and hear this conversation; thankfully you were still out cold.
Ellie waved a hand at him. “Oh relax, the woman’s sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Now, answer the fucking question.”
Joel didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.
He willed himself to open his mouth and say something—anything.
But he just couldn’t. He’d been stumped by a fucking fourteen year old who was too damn smart for her own good.
“Interesting,” Ellie mused after a minute of silence, curiously rubbing her chin. “How you can’t even deny it. Very, very, interesting.”
Before Joel could even think, the sound of you moving around in the backseat caused him to jump, the internal panic flooding him in one single wave. As soon as he was certain you were still fast asleep, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Ellie. “Now, you listen here—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” She held up her finger to her lips. “Let’s not wake Sleeping Beauty back there.” She dropped her hand down into her lap and glanced out the window, grinning to herself. “Besides, I have the answer I was looking for anyway.”
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gilverrwrites · 1 month ago
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Just a little bit bad
Villain!Dick Grayson/Robin!Reader, 1K words Kinktober entry 11: Corruption Warnings: Mild dub-con | Choking Requested by: Anonymous
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Nobody knows who Renegade is, not even Batman. Gossip amongst the underground varies wildly, some say that he’s a former cop or secret agent, others that he’s a mafioso, a villain since the day he was born. One story goes that he used to be some sort of acrobat or gymnast and you can believe it. He just loves to put on a show. Even now, he’s balanced on the tip toes of one foot, the other crossed over the back of his leg. His back is perfectly arched as he leans forward, pressing all of his weight onto your burning throat with one hand. The other holds your utility belt just out of reach, turning and twirling it as he examines your tools. Clearly, he finds nothing of interest, as before long he throws it, with significant force. It lands out of sight. Hopefully on an adjacent rooftop, and not an alleyway far below.
You stare with wet, stinging eyes as he re-focuses his attention your shaking form, ignoring the way you claw at his forearm. He angles his body to the side, tilting his head, lips twisting into an amused smirk before he sighs in mock wistfulness and casually asks; “Do you ever get tired of it?”
You've no idea what he's talking about. Couldn't answer him with more than a choked cry if you wanted to, but he knows that, it's part of his game. Ever since your first faced off, Renegade seems to take a particular joy in making you squirm. This isn’t the first time he’s had you cornered, but it’s the first time you’ve been without back-up. You do your best not to tremble at the ominous though that he has you trapped like a mouse, wrapped around his fingers, right where he wants you.
When you fail to reply to his question with more than the narrowing of your eyes he laughs, slapping his head as if to say ‘duh’ before he explains. “I mean do you ever get tired of being the hero?” As though the problem with his question had been the finer details.
The lack of oxygen is quickly making you lightheaded but you've enough whereabouts to shake your pounding head.
“No? Huh.” He finally releases your throat, kicking back onto two legs and playfully scratching his chin in consideration of your answer. Immediately, you launch yourself at him but you're still weak. Sluggish from being suffocated. Renegade easily stops you in your tracks, pinning you back to the wall, this time with his whole body.
One unyielding hand holds your arms above your head, suspending you a few inches above the grounds, and his legs tuck snuggly between your own, his thick, muscular thighs ensuring you're spread around him.
His breath feels unnaturally cold on the heated skin of your face as he nestles against you. Speaking low, almost intimately, he continues to probe; “C’mon Robin, don’t you ever get sick of all that self-righteousness? All that straight-and-narrow bullshit?”
Your body is still reeling, you’re panting for air, your heartbeat rings in your ears; violently pulsing throughout every inch of your body, but you notice when Renegade begins to trail his fingers ever so lightly along your stomach, brushing dangerously close to the junction between your legs, but never crossing the line.
You're two distracted to answer his question, but you feel the smile on his lips as he presses them into your jawline, speaking into the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Is it hard? Pretending you don't want to be bad? Just a little bit?”
“I’m not pretending.” You finally offer him an answer, voice soft, barely a whisper, and you blame it on your strained vocal chords. “I am good.”
“You’re good.” He echoes, tone steeped with mocking. Leaning back, he blatantly examines your hot and swollen face. His stormy eyes watching you as he chews his bottom lip in such a way that you have to admit it’s maddeningly enticing. “Batman must be sooo proud.”
You wouldn't have had a smart quip if he'd allowed you the time, instead you suck in a loud, sharp breath as he takes your mouth with his own. His kiss is harsh and hungry, like he’s trying to consume you, and though it would pain you to confess it aloud, you melt into it quickly, allowing him to have his way with your lips, nipping at them until you open for his tongue to slip between them.  
Your chance to really put a stop to things comes when he releases your bound wrists, but the moment comes and goes, and you do nothing to fight him. In fact, you unabashedly wrap your arms around his shoulders, helping, encouraging him even, when he cups your thighs and lifts you until you're crushed against each other. You feel clumsy, unable to rock your pelvis with the same grace as Renegade, but you do it anyway, rutting yourself against the hardened bulge in his suit.
“Such a good, good birdy.” Though he sounds sweet, you know it’s a taunt; meant to remind you of the claim you’d made only moments ago. Despite his ridicule, you continue to buck your hips, roughly rubbing your clothed and tender core against him because beneath all the pain, and adrenaline, beneath the shame, you like how it feels.
“Look at you.” Renegade knows this too, and he’s fucking smug about it, gripping your chin and forcing you to look down, to watch yourself grinding on him. “What would the people think, if they could see you know, huh? Practically begging for some big bad dick.”
The flush upon your skin is no longer from the asphyxiation. It’s entirely sexual and moral frustration. Luckily, he doesn’t expect an answer to his rhetoric, instead he asks you to confess something much more much challenging. “I think you want to be bad, just for me. Am I right?”
Any words you can conceive catch in your throat. You want nothing more than to continue, but can't bring yourself to agree with him; the enemy, the bad guy. Yet he looks so good under the sombre city lights, and his body feels so sinfully right, pushed up against yours. His voice is so mesmeric as he whispers more words of encouragement. “Come on little bird, wont you sing a sweet song, just for me?”
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Please try not to stress over things that are out of your control!
Kinktober Masterlist
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bluejutdae · 9 months ago
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Insomniacs | Bang Chan x you
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synopsis: Chan is your roommate and you both have trouble with insomnia
Another sleepless night. Another night of tossing and turning. Another headache that you can feel starting at the back of your head. There’s really no point in staying in bed anymore, but you have to be quiet cause your roommate is maybe asleep, and you don’t wanna risk waking him up.
You wander through the apartment and end up in the kitchen, maybe some chamomile tea would help? After you heard noises from Chan’s room, too loud to be just him moving in his sleep, it’s easy to decide to make two cups and leave his on the kitchen table.
On nights like this, standing up is a chore. You’re tired to the bones, but your brain doesn’t seem to have received the message: awake, loud and a bit mean, it’s more awake than ever. Just few minutes later, your hear soft steps getting closer, and Chan finds you sitting on the kitchen floor. Your back to the cabinets door, warm mug between your hands, a warm substitute for real affection.
“No sleep tonight, uh?” Chan grabs his mug and raises it in a mock toast in your direction. He then sits at your side, knee knocking in yours and his head hits with a soft thud the kitchen furniture. You answer with a quiet hum and a shake of your head.
“Wanna talk about it?” You can’t help a smile from appearing on your face. Chan is always so gentle, so caring, that falling deep for him was way too easy and natural. “There’s not much to talk about. What about you?”
“Bad dream. Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“But you wanna talk?”
The two of you do this sometimes, you sit on the floor and talk about everything and nothing. There are only few things you’ll never tell each other: you’re never confessing to him, he’s never telling you he’s felt alone for so long before you arrived, you’re never telling him he’s the best part of your life.
He nods and sips his chamomile. “I heard sharks likes to be pet by subs.” One topic is as good as the other, but it gets the conversation started…
[…]
It’s hours later when he says: “…and so they broke up”, he concludes the story about a couple of his friends and their messy romance.
“That’s sad, tho. The idea of loving someone so much but not being able to be with them.” You’re looking in front of you, Chan’s face on the left of your visual field. You know what’s like to love someone but not being with him, watching him and being happy about his accomplishments but only doing it as a friend, as a roommate.
“Mh”, he nods and picks at the skin of his thumb with his teeth. “That sucks, you’re right. I hope they’ll manage to solve their problems and finally be happy.” With his head still resting on the cabinet’s door, he turns it towards you. “Are you happy?”
Your first instinct is to scoff. Your second instinct is to cry. Are you happy? What are you gonna answer Chan?
“I don’t know.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not sure he heard you. You’re about to drop the subject when he makes an inquisitive sound. Have you always been weak in front of Chan? Have you always given him all he asked for? “I don’t know, Chan. I have pretty much everything I need, I should be happy, right? I have a decent job, a pretty apartment, friends, health…” your sentence hangs incomplete. You know what is missing, but you can’t say it.
How do you tell your roommate you love him? How do you tell him you’d be happy if he were yours? How do you tell someone they’re the reason you keep smiling day by day without weighting them of the burden, the responsibility? And even if you were brave enough (and selfish enough) to tell him, then what if he doesn’t reciprocate and you lose him?
“It’s okay to want more.” Too kind, too good.
“What about you?” You ask, maybe he’ll forget your words.
“Are you asking me if I’m happy or if I want more?” What are you asking? You’re not sure, so you shrug, letting him pick for you. “I am happy.” he says, and then Chan does something that in all the late night talks you shared he has never done: he reaches for your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. His palm is warm against yours, bigger, you can feel his callous on his fingers. “I could be happier,” he continues. “I want more, too.”
How can something so simple as holding hands make your heart race? Why are you suddenly so warm and happy? “It’s okay to want more” you repeat his words.
Chan’s face opens up in a beautiful smile and you blush so hard you can only hide your face, letting your head rest on his shoulder, hands still clasped together.
Later, you’ll kiss. Later, you’ll both confess, reciprocated feeling and plans for the future. Later, you’ll decide to make it official, so there’ll never be misunderstandings in this. But for now, the sun rising catches you unmoved. Hands clasped, heads resting close and you both asleep. You’re gonna regret falling asleep sitting in the kitchen floor, but this was the best late night talk for you two, so a cricked neck and achy asses are worth it.
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authortelevision · 1 month ago
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“Why did that kinda… do something to me?” ₊˚⊹♡
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words: 2,586 ✦ .ᐟ
♯┆ arthur at the club, submissive arthur frederick
you meet arthur in the club filming a video and he’s dared to go up to you. after you’re rude to him he realises he might actually be kind of into it
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁౨ৎ. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
The club was packed, the kind of night where the air was thick with sweat, and the bass felt like it was thudding directly inside my chest. It had been a long week, and I wasn’t in the mood to play nice. My friends had convinced me to come out, but all I wanted was to finish my drink and go home. I didn’t want to make small talk. I didn’t want to deal with more strangers.
So, naturally, that’s exactly what happened.
I noticed him from across the room before he even reached me — Arthur TV. I wasn’t a huge fan, but his face popped up enough in my YouTube feed for me to recognize him. He was walking toward me, camera in hand, his friends trailing behind him like they were all in on some kind of joke. His friends were filming him, and I could already tell this wasn’t going to be fun.
He approached with that easy confidence some guys get when they know people are watching.
“Hey,” he said, standing a little too close. “Mind if I—”
“Yeah, I mind,” I cut him off before he could even finish his sentence, turning to face him with an icy stare. “Whatever you’re doing, I’m not interested.”
He paused, clearly taken aback. “Uh, okay, but I wasn’t—”
I cut him off again. “Let me guess. You’re doing some stupid YouTube challenge where your friends dare you to talk to a random girl? That’s original.”
Arthur’s mouth twitched, like he was trying to decide whether to laugh or back off. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, when you put it like that—”
“No, that’s exactly what it is,” I snapped. “I’m not here to be part of your little video, alright? So go back to your friends and find someone else.”
I could see the wheels turning in his head. He looked over his shoulder at his friends, who were watching from a distance, laughing and pointing at us. Clearly, they thought this was hilarious.
Arthur sighed, and when he turned back to me, he didn’t look so smug anymore. “Look, I get it. This is probably the last thing you want right now, but honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be a prank or anything. They dared me, yeah, but I’m not trying to make fun of you.”
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “So, what, am I supposed to be flattered?”
He shook his head, clearly trying to keep things light. “No, I’m just saying… maybe don’t hate me right off the bat. I didn’t come over here to be annoying.”
“Well, you failed,” I shot back, glaring at him. “You could’ve picked literally anyone else to bother tonight, but you chose me. So congrats.”
Arthur blinked, clearly unsure how to respond to that. “I mean, you looked interesting.”
“Right, because nothing’s more interesting than a girl standing by herself trying to avoid idiots like you,” I said. “Really groundbreaking stuff.”
He smiled a little, like he wasn’t completely put off by my attitude, which was irritating. “Okay, fair enough. I probably deserve that.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to my drink, hoping he’d get the hint and leave, but he lingered.
“Seriously, I didn’t mean to annoy you,” he said, more quietly this time. “If you want, I’ll walk away. But if you ever get tired of shutting people down, maybe we could just… talk?”
That caught me off guard. I half-expected him to make a joke or brush off my attitude, but he seemed… genuine. Annoyingly so. I glanced over at him, still skeptical. “Talk? About what, exactly? What’s left to say after you’ve made a complete fool of yourself?”
Arthur chuckled, and I could see him relax just a little. “I’m pretty good at making a fool of myself. It’s basically my job. But I don’t mind it so much when someone calls me out. Keeps me honest.”
“Right,” I said, arching an eyebrow. “So this is you being ‘honest,’ is it?”
He shrugged. “As honest as I get when I’ve just been verbally destroyed by someone I’ve known for less than a minute.”
I couldn’t help it — a tiny smirk crept onto my face. “Well, at least you’re self-aware.”
He smiled, and it was annoyingly charming, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Look, I get that you’re trying to turn this into a moment, but seriously, I’m not in the mood to be part of your content. YouTubers are all the same.”
Arthur nodded, backing off slightly. “Yeah, I get that. I do. You’re not wrong. Most of the time, we are the worst.”
“You said it, not me.”
He laughed then, a real laugh, and for some reason, it wasn’t as irritating as it should have been. He took a step back, holding up his hands in defeat. “Alright, message received. I’ll leave you alone before I push my luck any further. But just for the record,” he said, glancing back toward his camera with a grin, “I think I survived that better than expected.”
“Barely,” I muttered.
With that, he gave a small wave and turned to leave. I watched as he walked back to his friends, who were practically doubled over with laughter. They high-fived him as he rejoined the group, and then, of course, I heard him say it — loud enough for me to catch, like it was meant to be overheard.
“Why did that kinda… do something to me?”
I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. Of course, he was into it. Of course, the one guy who wasn’t completely put off by my attitude was the one with a camera pointed in my direction.
Still, there was something oddly satisfying about how he took it all in stride. Most guys would’ve slunk away by now.
As I finished my drink, I felt a weird tug of guilt. I had been harsher than necessary. Maybe I’d been projecting all my frustration from the week onto him. He was just trying to have fun. And, to be fair, he wasn’t the worst guy who’d approached me in here tonight. Far from it.
I sighed, setting my glass down and straightening up. My friends were on the dance floor, too busy to notice me. Without thinking much about it, I turned and made my way toward Arthur and his group.
When I got close, they noticed me, and I could see Arthur glance up. Fuck, those eyes.
“Hey,” I said, feeling slightly awkward now that I had to actually confront him without the defensiveness. “Uh, I just wanted to apologize for being… kind of a bitch back there.”
Arthur blinked, clearly not expecting that. His friends were snickering, but he waved them off. “You don’t need to apologize. You were just being real, and honestly, it’s kind of refreshing.”
I raised an eyebrow, still feeling a little uncertain. “Well, real or not, I didn’t need to be that rude. You were just doing your thing.”
His lips quirked into that easy grin again. “Hey, no harm done. I’m used to worse.”
I smirked at that. “Really? People usually rip into you like that?”
Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “Not like that. That was special.”
I found myself smiling despite myself. “Well, at least I made an impression.”
“Definitely,” he said, and for a moment, the tension between us shifted into something a little less hostile, a little more… intimate?
I paused, feeling like an idiot but pushing forward anyway. “And honestly… I have to admit, you’re kind of hot.”
His eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised, but that grin never faltered. “Didn’t expect that after the way you tore into me. I thought you hated me.”
I rolled my eyes, feeling my cheeks flush a little. “Don’t get too full of yourself. It doesn’t mean I didn’t mean what I said earlier.”
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough. Can’t say I’m not flattered, though.”
“Well, I did feel kind of bad for ripping you apart for no reason. So, since I probably ruined your night, how about I make it up to you by asking for your number?”
His eyes lit up, clearly surprised but amused. “You’re asking for my number?”
I gave him a look. “Don’t make this weird.”
He laughed, shaking his head, and pulled out his phone. “Alright, alright. I’m not going to argue with you.”
I grabbed his phone, typing my number in quickly before handing it back. “There. No more dares, no more cameras.”
“No promises on the cameras,” he teased. “But I’ll text you.”
I shook my head, smiling a little before turning to leave. “You’d better.”
As I walked away, I could hear his friends cracking up behind me, and part of me wondered if I’d just made his night.
I’d definitely made mine a little more interesting.
_________
It was late, almost too late to be messaging someone, but I didn’t care. The night had left me restless, and as I settled into bed, my phone buzzed beside me. Arthur’s name popped up on the screen, and my stomach did a little flip.
Arthur: “You still up?”
I hesitated for a moment, smirking to myself as I typed back.
You: “Yeah. Why? You miss me already?”
I could almost hear him laugh through the screen as his reply came.
Arthur: “Yeah, actually. Been thinking about you since the club.”
I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t expected him to be so forward, but I didn’t mind it.
You: “Really? What’s so interesting about a girl who told you to back off?”
There was a pause, like he was considering his words carefully. Then the reply came.
Arthur: “Honestly? Everything. You got to me, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I felt a flicker of satisfaction, my curiosity piqued now. I leaned into the conversation, pushing him to see just how far he’d go.
You: “Got to you how? I barely said two words to you.”
Arthur: “Exactly. It wasn’t what you said; it was how you said it. The way you looked at me like I was wasting your time like I didn’t even matter to you. It’s stuck with me all night.”
My breath hitched slightly as I read his response, surprised by how direct he was. He wasn’t playing it cool — he was laying it all out, and something about that vulnerability made my heart race a little.
You: “So you liked that I didn’t care about you? That’s what did it for you?”
His reply came faster this time, like he was waiting for the chance to explain himself.
Arthur: “Yeah. It was the confidence. I don’t know why, but it’s driving me crazy. No one’s ever looked at me like that before.”
I chuckled softly, enjoying the way the conversation was shifting, the honesty in his words.
You: “So what, you’re telling me you liked that I didn’t give a shit?”
Arthur: “More than I want to admit. It messed with my head. I kept thinking when I was back with my friends, ‘Why doesn’t she care? Why isn’t she even a little interested?’ And it made me want to prove myself to you even more.”
I could feel the tension building between us, even through the screen. His words were pulling me in, and I could sense how much he’d been affected by that brief interaction.
You: “Most guys would’ve walked away. Why didn’t you?”
Arthur: “Because you weren’t like anyone else. I could tell you weren’t just playing hard to get — you really weren’t interested, and that made me want to know why. I wanted to make you see me differently.”
I bit my lip, feeling a thrill run through me at how invested he was. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d gotten under his skin, but now that I knew, I wanted to see how far I could push it.
You: “And now you can’t stop thinking about it? About me?”
Arthur: “It’s more than that. I can’t stop thinking about how you didn’t flinch when I tried to talk to you. You didn’t even care that I was there, and it got to me in a way I didn’t expect. Like… it made me feel small, and for some reason, that made me want you more.”
The intensity in his words sent a shiver down my spine. Most guys wouldn’t admit something like that, but Arthur was being raw, almost desperate in his honesty.
You: “You liked that I made you feel small?”
Arthur: “I’m not used to it. Usually, people recognize me or try to impress me, but you didn’t care at all. You just looked at me like I was… nothing.”
My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I processed what he was saying. He wasn’t just playing a game — I had actually affected him, gotten under his skin in a way that left him reeling. I felt a rush of power at the thought.
You: “So you’re telling me you want me because I didn’t want you?”
Arthur: “Exactly. The way you rejected me, the way you didn’t care… it’s like you’ve taken over my head. I can’t stop thinking about how cold you were, how much I wanted to change your mind.”
You: “And now?”
There was a pause, the little typing bubble appearing as he considered his answer. Then:
Arthur: “Now, I can’t stop thinking about how badly I want to make you care. It’s like you’ve got this hold on me, and I don’t know how to shake it. The more distant you were, the more desperate I felt. And now I’m just stuck on it. Stuck on you.”
My breath stopped for a moment at the weight of his confession. He wasn’t just flirting anymore — he was telling me how much control I had over him, how much I’d gotten to him without even trying.
You: “So what, you want me to keep treating you like that? Like you’re not even worth my time?”
Arthur: “Yes. God, yes. I want more of that. I want more of you.”
I let his words sink in. He was being so raw, so desperate for more, and I couldn’t help but lean into it, feeling a strange thrill at how much he wanted me to treat him like that again.
You: “You really are desperate, aren’t you?”
Arthur: “I’ve never felt like this before. It’s like I’m addicted to the way you didn’t give me anything. It’s driving me insane.”
You: “So if I told you to stop texting me right now, you’d just keep wanting me more?”
Arthur: “Yes. I think if you ignored me for weeks, I’d still be sitting here, waiting for you to look at me like you did earlier.”
I could feel the power shift completely now, his words practically begging for more, more of the way I’d made him feel at the club. It was intoxicating, knowing how deeply I’d affected him, how much he craved something most guys would run from.
You: “Good. Because I’m not done making you feel like that yet.”
Arthur: “Please. Don’t stop. I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”
My heart raced at the desperation in his words, the raw need pouring through the screen. He wasn’t holding anything back, and it was clear now — I had him exactly where I wanted him.
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skrrts · 4 months ago
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older, wiser & hotter than ever (oneshot)
✧ gn!reader x song mingi ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, dating, fluff ✧ word count: 2,1k
Mingi didn’t anticipate spending his 25th birthday stuck at an airport because your flight home was canceled at the last minute. There isn't much you can do about it but it doesn't mean you won't make sure it's a birthday to remember in your own little silly ways.
a/n: i wanted to write something short and cute for his birthday. no special warnings. queued it to be posted at Korean midnight hour.
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“I am really sorry we have no better news for you, but due to the weather, there won’t be any flights until morning, once the fog has cleared. However, your rescheduled flight at nine should leave as planned,” the woman apologized again, and you hurried to smile.
“Of course, I understand. Thank you so much for the help,” you offered a polite nod and turned around. After the most amazing week in Los Angeles, it seemed not all plans were meant to work out. Of course, everyone else frowned a bit when Mingi announced with a playful grin how you managed to plan your vacation so that you’d land and return home at the moment of midnight, him stepping out of the airplane as his birthday began. There was a bit of a romantic idea to see it as a symbol of stepping into the second half of his twenties.
Mingi was quite emotional about it; the idea of letting go of his youth was challenging, and you knew it was his way of dealing with it. Now the two of you were sitting at the airport, your flight was canceled because of bad weather, and neither of you had enough cash left to book another hotel to be a bit more comfortable.
Mingi was obviously disappointed. He always failed to hide it, as much as he hurried to smile when he saw you, his hand reaching out to pull you onto his lap.
“I take it they told you there is nothing they can do about it, and we have to please be understanding, while also reminding us that bad weather will not be a reason for the travel company to give us a refund.”
You laughed when he changed his voice, trying to sound like one of those travel agents. You curled your arm around his neck and placed a short kiss on his lips.
“Something like that. I guess we’re stuck here until tomorrow. At least you’ve got a great story to tell — just add a little more action and tension, like thousands of tourists stranded in Los Angeles, scenes close to a battle.”
It was nice to see his features form into his iconic smile: “Don’t forget about the aliens, then.”
The two of you laughed, and he sighed, allowing his chin to rest on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind, though, if we suddenly found a black credit card and could spend the night in one of those big, fancy airport hotels. That would be nice. We totally deserve that, don’t we?”
The idea of a large bed instead of the uncomfortable seating areas of the airport was certainly more tempting.
“Absolutely. Speaking of sleep, though, it’s getting late. While we’ll make it back home with half a day of delay, you still should rest a bit.” You ruffled his hair. “Don’t want to start your special day being all tired.”
Mingi pouted and looked at you before giving in. “Fine, but only with my favorite pillow. Let’s move to one of those corner sitting areas, then I can relax against the wall and you can lean against me.”
You nodded and took his hand, Mingi taking care of the luggage you shared with his free hand as you carefully made your way through the upset crowds of passengers, as you weren’t the only ones affected by this. At least you managed to find a more private spot quickly, a small sitting corner far from the ticket counters.
Once the bag was securely stored, Mingi got comfortable, opening his arms wide for you. You snuggled into his embrace, and his arms held you tightly, your head against his cheek as you listened to his heartbeat.
“This was a really fun vacation, even if it ends like this,” your boyfriend noted after a while, his voice sleepy but content. “I never thought I’d come here until you just said we’re gonna do it. The food was really good, and I will have to save up properly next time. Then, I can buy one of those fancy jackets, maybe some cool shoes to go along with it. I’ll wear both at the water restaurant, with some sunglasses, and flash you a smile so you fall madly in love with me, and we walk into the sunset.”
As you listened to him, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Mingi, you already are the coolest and hottest person to me, and while maybe your clothes aren't the big brands, you look amazing in every photo we took.”
As your head tilted a little to look at him, your gazes met, and he smiled lazily but happily. “I have the most stunning and gorgeous person by my side, just making sure I always live up to it.”
He always would have your heart and silly admiration; there was nothing special needed, but you knew Mingi was stubborn, and you did not want to tell him not to aim for something important to him.
“Said person would not mind a good night kiss.”
This time you were the one to pout your lips and grin, mumbling something about how you learned from the best, and you kissed. Your hand rested against his warm cheek as you slowly gave him a gentle shove to relax back.
“Time for that nap. We do not want to miss that late flight because of being too tired,” you teased, but Mingi yawned. Unlike you, he drifted off within minutes, and while you fell into a soft kind of slumber, it was not deep. You just could not see yourself sleeping at an airport at all, eventually ending up just watching passengers pass by, many leaving as it got dark and likely booking some hotel to spend the night there rather than here.
You pulled out your phone and checked the time; it was about an hour left to the eighth of August back at home. This was not how you planned it, but improvising was one of your strengths. You gave your boyfriend a gentle shove.
“Mingi, are you awake? I really need to use the bathroom.”
It took a moment, but eventually, Mingi stirred and gave you a small nod, a big hand ruffling through your hair.
“I’m awake, go ahead.” His husky, sleepy voice was nice — you always loved to hear it.
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised. A quick kiss was placed on his cheek before you got up and grabbed your bag. The truth was you had a few other intentions, a plan made on the spot, finding one of the many restaurants and bakeries at the airport. This one was a little smaller and seemed more personal.
When you approached the woman and asked for the favor, she seemed amused but offered a kind smile.
“That’s no problem if you say the flavor does not matter. We have a few smaller cakes. Would you like a ‘Happy Birthday’ with a name or an age, maybe?”
There was a hint of color on your cheeks: “Actually, I was thinking this?”
You had seen a few of those cakes on Pinterest when searching for ideas for Mingi’s birthday for the small celebration you two had planned for the weekend with friends.
The woman laughed, followed by her co-worker who also glanced at it: “That we can do as well. We just finished a new row of cakes, so give us twenty minutes and it should be done.”
You clapped your hands together: “Thank you very much.”
The woman smiled, and you sat down on one of the free chairs, dropping Mingi a message that you were hungry, and decided to grab some food on the way back, just so he wouldn’t be worried about where you went.
He answered within a moment with a few kissing emojis, so you were relieved to see he was doing okay.
The past few years with him had been some of the best. You loved how reckless he could be while also just embracing his cuteness when everyone else often thought of him as a guy who was a little mysterious and hard to figure out. If anything, Mingi always felt easy to read; the longer you two were together, the fewer the occasions where he would try and hide his feelings from you, something you honored by doing the same.
“Here you go,” the woman handed you a small box, and you opened it, giving it a glance before smiling.
“This is perfect, thank you!” The cake really was small, but that was perfect; wasting food was not an option, and you wouldn’t be able to take any on the flight.
“We hope even with this weather, he has a nice birthday.” The woman winked and gifted you two bottles of coffee for free.
When you slowly returned to your seats, Mingi looked like a lost puppy, his head going left and right to see just where you had been.
“You didn’t think I was running away, did you?” you teased softly as he looked at you, his face brightening up right away.
“Of course not, you just were gone for some time,” he replied, and his gaze wandered to the box in your hand. You offered one of the bottles to him; it was late for coffee, but he did not seem to question it after the two of you just had a nap.
“Well,” you started, looking at him. “I know this day was meant to be special, and we’re about to spend half of it on an airplane instead, but I don’t think that means it has to be any less amazing. After all, it is your day, and how could it not be?”
Look at you being all sappy! At least there was a blush, and he rubbed a hand over his neck.
“Yah, what’s this all about?”
Two minutes until midnight at home.
You smiled, leaning over to unzip the bag and pulling out something you managed to sneak in without him noticing when you packed. The branding on it already made his face surprised.
The two of you went to this one store; they sold really unique pieces of denim jackets, each one of a kind, but the prices were a little steep. So when Mingi tried on the same one four times but sighed because of the price tag, ultimately leaving it behind while talking about just how nice it had been for days, you knew this was it. You went back and bought it.
“Seriously?” Mingi looked like you gifted him a car rather than a jacket when he pulled it out and looked at it like it was the most stunning piece of clothing.
“You loved it so much, and you look good in it, so when I said I wanted to buy some souvenirs, I actually went back to the store. It is your birthday, so no notes about the price! You just owe me to wear it plenty and tell everyone how amazing I am,” you teased, and he pulled it on, right over his hoodie.
“This is the best — you are the best!” He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. It took a bit of effort not to just lean in and let him pull you over. The hour changed, and you smiled into the kiss.
“Happy Birthday, Song Mingi,” you whispered. Mingi was smiling brightly.
“Thank you. Oof, I love you so much!”
You laughed and finally offered the box to him.
“Well, I hope with a new age comes great hunger. Every birthday should start with a cake. Candles will have to wait for the other one at home, but until then, here you go.”
Mingi grinned: “Is that so? Ah, okay then!”
He accepted it and opened the box slowly, greeted by the text you requested.
‘Older, Wiser, and Hotter than Ever.’
Getting older was scary but also exciting, and you couldn’t wait to see where Mingi was going from here. You were happy to be the one by his side.
“I cannot deny I get older and hotter. I am pretty hot, am I not?” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes, smirking.
“Fine, I admit it.”
“ I will make sure it becomes a daily thing. I don’t promise to get any wiser, but the rest, leave it to me. You won’t regret it.”
Mingi kissed you again, and this time, you just allowed yourself to melt a little more.
Yeah, you were more than content to let him impress you, day by day, for the rest of your life, and all it would take was for you two to be yourselves and be together.
The world stopped, just for you, as thousands of passengers rushed through the busy airport.
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kick-a-long · 2 months ago
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i find it so desperately sad that goyim generally would be so much less antisemitic if jews started physically fighting back with guns or sticks in every country. calling for the murder of muslims all over the world, if the jewish population was big enough to have large scary groups of crazy fringe fundamentalist synagogues all over the world, a billion strong, that preached murder and hate so goyim could look down on jews like some noble savage in need of assistance and western education and protection. so we could be reformed in obvious patronizing ways because there were so many of us that we had militant violent fringe extremists, like christians and muslims have, mixed in with the normal jews.
if jews didn't have such a reputation for success and intelligence maybe conspiracy theories would stop blaming us for controlling the world. if we felt less in danger maybe we wouldn't be so obsessed with long term survival.
is antisemitism some warped form of envy? maybe. what sucks is that jews are no better or worse than anyone else. some jews are brutes and some are the most wonderful people imaginable, just like any other group. what sucks is we don't all live up to the reputation of tactical geniuses and wizards with mind control magic. all of us jews are just tired and abused humans who have lived with 2000+ years of generational trauma and the endless fall out from a popular jewish book written 3000+ years ago describing the best practices of jewish culture. It has some great stories, histories, life advice, diet recommendations, hygiene, and rules about how to treat others.
is that such a crime?
trying to show a path forward? not demanding anyone else follow those rules but wanting to do our best to follow them anyway? how to live a good life that makes the world better and makes you proud to have been on earth for the time you were there? jews fail to do this all the time, just like everyone else. I fail all the time. why are people so obsessed with that? people say shylock is a stereotyped antisemitic character but,
"I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."
so why do jews always have to be the better man? why do we have to apologize for being angry and sad and hating the people that attack us? that was written by Shakespeare, a christian in the 1600s who who had probably never met a jew, they were expelled from england, but imagined us as money lenders, the only profession left to jews at that time. even he saw the double standard. it makes a good point.
now, i don't want vengeance, i don't want violence, but i feel vengeful. i feel angry that i am unsafe because of play actors and terrorist supporters who want revenge for jews existing but scream bloody murder when jews refuse to dig their own graves, beg forgiveness for ever being born, and lay down in them to be mocked and pissed on and abused in the worst ways imaginable for the entertainment and conquest of it. i want peace with them. they are as human as i am, full of foibles and anger. i want nothing to do with them. i want them to never come near a jew again for the rest of time.
i am sad. all i want is to feel my feelings and advocate for what is the most ethical and practical work around to a world filled with unending suffering while i am still alive. i want them on thier side to live in the world they want and me on my side to live in the world i want. why don't these children of all ages, lost in delusions of fantastical battles and ultimate good and evil, see that? why can't I be a human first as well as a jew first? why do they ask me to pick? why am i not allowed to pick?
it's been almost a year. we're all so tired.
I'm going to a music festival. I'm trying to decide whether to wear a star. why is it dangerous to wear a star around my neck?
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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago
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hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore
this was cute. you were right.
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coffee at midnight
Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.
“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.
But like, it is private.
That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.
It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.
You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.
You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”
You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”
Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”
“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”
“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.
You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”
The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”
You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.
“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.
“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.
Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.
“Oh shit,” he says.
You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.
He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”
“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.
The room goes silent. 
“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”
“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”
Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.
“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.
“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”
“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”
Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”
All eyes turn to you.
“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.
The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.
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concretecultist · 5 months ago
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Muscle Memory
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summary: “Falling out of love is the saddest thing two people can do to one another. It just means that they have grown too comfortable enough to not make an effort to try,”
pairing: introvert!reader x noah sebastian
warnings: angst, lots of crying, heartbreak
word count: ~5k
lightly inspired by ‘The Greatest’ by Billie Eilish
THIS IS ALL PURE FICTION!
A/N: i don’t know if i want to make this into a part two or leave it open ended! let me know what you think and please be sure to comment and reblog if you enjoyed 🥰
~Berry🫐
——
Things just aren’t what they used to be.
Falling in love was scary enough but knowing the one you love is falling out of love with you is even scarier.
It started with the missed date nights.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I got stuck at the studio with Jolly,”
Then it was the barely there kisses. Each night before bed, you’d give each other three kisses, one for each word in the phrase ‘I love you’
But now you’re lucky if you even get one.
The sex that was once passionate isn’t even there. He’d come home from tour and there was no sexual tension, you’d tease him and he’d brush you off.
You’d cook dinner for the two of you but he’d come home with take out and the guys following in tow without letting you know beforehand, luckily, Folio and Jolly had an appetite so your food never went to waste.
But tonight, tonight was the final straw.
“I love you,” you said to him as you set his plate in front of him. It took him a few seconds, as if he was finding the courage to say the words that at one point, slipped out to easily.
“Love you too,”
And that’s when you knew. You knew that once the ‘I’ was no longer there, it was done. After four years, the love that burned bright, completely untamable, has been reduced to embers and there was no saving it. There was no lighter fluid, no extra wood and no match to bring that fire back to life.
It was gone.
“It’s all just muscle memory at this point… isn’t it?,”
Noah finished chewing before frowning at you.
“What?,”
You could tell he knew what you were referring to but he loved to play clueless. Now is not the time for that though.
“Just… saying ‘love you’? You fell out of love a long time ago but stayed to soften the blow,” you whisper as you pick at your food.
Noah ran a hand over his face and sighed, “Y/N, no. That’s not-,”
“You can be honest with me. I’ll be a little hurt but I already know,” you smile sadly as you glance at him, “I already know,”
“I tried to make it work,” he says lowly, saying the words as if his teeth are barbed wire, as if it’s hurting him to say this, “I still am,”
“When was the last time you touched me?,” you couldn’t even look at him when you asked that question, “All the times I waited for you to want me naked and you just… looked at me as if there was nothing enticing about me,”
“That’s not how it was, at all and you know that, with tour and everything my mind has been all over the place,”
“You still could’ve given me some form of passion, Noah! Not just sex! Flowers, a fucking chocolate bar because it’s my favorite and you passed by it in the store. Something, something to make me believe you actually cared!,”
“I do!,”
“I can’t tell!,” you had to keep yourself from raising your voice, “I just wanted what I gave you. I waited and I waited and I waited. I thought that maybe it was the burnout, that you being home and resting would fix it but it’s been like this for MONTHS and I’m tired of feeling you pulling away so please, just rip off the fucking bandaid already,”
“Y/N please don’t do this. Not now. I said I was trying,” even now, his voice is void of any emotion. How do you claim to try but it can’t even be heard. Why doesn’t he care enough to fight for you harder right now.
Right now he’s throwing weak punches as his defense, he’s barely trying. It’s over.
“I know I probably won’t ever be the one for you,” you tightened your lips, trying to keep yourself from spilling the words but you need to say it, “But you were it for me and I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again,”
The words rush out like projectile vomit, you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were begging but you figured if this is it, then to get it all out, right?
“Life will never be the same. I won’t be able to listen to certain songs, eat certain foods, watch shows, visit certain cities because they’ll all remind me of you and it’s going to kill me,” you twirl your fork in the mess of noodles on your plate, finding it more intriguing than this conversation, “I was so… desperate to make it better. To be better so that you would still love me but nothing was ever good enough. You may have thought that you were good at hiding it but… I could feel you slipping away from me and it’s crushing me,”
“Baby, please don’t do this,”
“Don’t call me that”
He had some nerve. For months it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that’ but now he wants to pull the “Baby” card? He’s just driving the sword deeper into your chest and he can’t feel remorse. He can’t shed a tear because he’s the cause of all the blood. You sit before him, chest open as you give him your last breath. You deserved to say your piece before he does his finishing move.
“I’m sorry,” he swallowed thickly, following suit in picking at the food on his plate. He never wanted it to come to this. He always thought you were the one but with the rising fame, he was finding it hard to juggle. He started paying more attention to the band than feeding the energy into your relationship. He stopped trying and that’s what started all of this.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. These things happen,” you sniffle and wipe your cheeks, forking some of your dinner in your mouth to hopefully subdue the churning you feel in your gut, but all it did was make you want to regurgitate it all, “I can be out by the end of the week,”
“You don’t have to do that,” he scoffed as if what you were saying was absurd. Did he really expect you to stick around?
“You don’t understand,” you tilt your head, finally looking at him. Eyes skimming over every feature of his, that way you’d never forget it, “You could offer me this place and I still wouldn’t take it. There’s too many memories. It would just eat at me,”
Maybe you’d live out in the woods. Away from society. You didn’t like the outside world much anyway. And with you losing Noah, there was no point. Solitude was your safety blanket, always forced to find solace in your own company, it’s been a long time since it’s come to that, but, right now you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you happy,”
“Y/N, please,” Noah sighs, “It’s not like that at all,”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me,” your throat clenches around the words, “Look me in my eyes and tell me that I still make you as happy as the day you met me! That I’m not utterly alone in this world. That it doesn’t feel like an elephant is on your shoulders when you come home all because you don’t have the balls to tell me there’s nothing here anymore,”
“Oh c’mon!! You’re blowing this out of proportion! This can work just give me time,”
“Say it, Noah” fists banging on the table causing the silverware to clank loudly against the glass plates, “Do you or do you not love me? It’s simple!,”
You watched the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened.
He couldn’t even say it.
“You don’t love me anymore and you can’t even be a man and say it?!,”
“What good is it gonna do, Y/N?!,” he shouted over you. Frustration filling his eyes as he sends you a look of annoyance.
There it goes.
The confirmation without it being explicit.
This wasn’t your Noah anymore.
“I hate to see the fact that you’re hurting right now, why would I make it worse?! You think I want to be having this conversation? You think I want to see you shattering all while trying to keep it together? I never wanted to hurt you,”
“I just need to hear you say it so I can go about my life,” you whimper, you know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you need to hear it, “I need to hear it so I can cut the cord, Noah,”
The silence from him is heavy. This is the least he could do. If he couldn’t love you the way you needed then so be it, but he could at least do this last thing for you.
“If you ever cared about me then you owe me this much. If this is it then you need to fucking say it so that I can start healing! This is on you! Fucking say i-,”
“I love you but not like I used to,” he cuts you off, words rushing out as if they burned his tongue to speak, wearing a look of shame in his face, shaking his head and for a second.. he kind of looks heartbroken.
“I thought I could get around it, thought that if I just gave myself time that I could regenerate the love I felt, but I don’t know how. I started to feel less guilt when I missed date nights, I stayed late at the studio so that I wouldn’t have to see the sad, longing look in your eyes. I’m not who I was when I got into this. I don’t know who I am and I need time to figure it out,”
The air is stripped from your lungs and while you were begging him to say it, it didn’t burn any less. It felt like you were on display for him, bare and vulnerable and he just kept taking a hot fire poker, marking you, tainting you for anyone else.
“Th-thank you,” you nod, eyes filling with tears, his face becoming distorted, “Thank you, Noah, for your candor,”
“Y/N,”
“Can we just eat in peace?,” you cleared your throat, smiling so sadly, you’ve never been so dejected. You were embarrassed by the tears on your face as you sipped your water.
“I just want to end this night on a good note. So let’s just eat quietly. I’ll do the dishes and go to bed,”
All he could do was nod. Your requests for him were always simple and even with your heart breaking because of him, you wanted one last meal with him, one last peaceful souvenir.
Your dinner was finished in silence and you followed through with what you said. You did the dishes, you cleaned up, but, before you went to bed, you roamed the house for a bit, wanting to take it all in before this place became only a memory.
The living room, where you two had your first kiss. The lamp with the broken lampshade that you two never replaced because it added “character”, you two broke it while watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller music video, trying to learn the dance.
The coffee table that you two fought over the instructions about (you were the one reading them correctly), there’s pictures of you two on the walls but you had to do yourself and him a favor by just taking them down and trashing them.
Which leads you to the kitchen… where he taught you his secret method to dicing potatoes. The place where you two held a cooking contest, with your friends as the audience after watching a few episodes of ‘Beat Bobby Flay’, this was the place where you two sat and got two spoons to eat out of a singular tub of ice cream when you guys couldn’t sleep.
Then the dining room… my God. All the holidays in there, familial dishes displayed on the table as you two hosted parties with your friends. All the laughs, all the card games and fights over if you could put a draw 2 over a draw 4 in UNO (Nicholas says you can’t but… you say otherwise)
Then the bathrooms… you helped him paint them all, running around the house screaming after you flicked paint, getting it in his hair and he sprinted after you trying to get you back. All the decorative seasonal hand towels you gawked over in Home Goods that he only got because you laid it on thick with how “cuuuuuute they would compliment the seasonal shower curtain” that you also talked him into getting.
The porch, where you two would wake up before sunrise, he makes your tea, you make his coffee and swap cups when you two went to sit on the porch swing and just listen to the birds as they wake up. The porch that you two were so excited to decorate for Halloween and Christmas each year.
Then the backyard. Memories flash before your eyes of slip and slide you guys pulled out every summer. The barbecues you had every chance you got. Noah feeling like the cool dad on the grill and you were the sweet mom everyone loved and thanked while passing around your famous freshly squeezed lemonade with Davis always asking what your secret is and your reply always being ‘if I tell ya, I might have to kill ya’ but… now that things were ending… you suppose you could tell him that the secret is agave nectar, a pinch of salt and some sparkling water.
Then you have the basement where you’d have to pull him off the game when it got late but he talked you into playing a round, even though you weren’t the best.
Or the attic, where you guys stored things for the future… a future together that was no longer in the cards for you.
And finally the bedroom.
The first place he told you he loved you. The intimacy that happened here. The funny recollection of Noah bumping his head on the headboard in the middle of having sex and both of you had to take a break because you were laughing too hard. The movie marathons that happened in here. The competitions you two held at who could solve the murder mysteries first (he says you’re tied, but you know you’re winning by at least 3), all the late night talks, the cuddles, the stolen kisses, the tickles.
How?… how do you move on from that? How do you go about your life as if you didn’t devote yourself to this singular person for years? How do you go back to a life without him? And your friends are mutual friends so you know you’ll have to give them up.
Why does it have to be such a lonely road.
This is why falling in love is scary… you don’t get how people start over. It felt like your world was ending, things weren’t always like this. He’d surprised you with your favorite flowers, take you on trips, do karaoke. There was a time where he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Always walked down the baby aisles to look at the clothes, always texted and called when he was away. He brought you out of your shell but now, now you must retreat back in.
What could you have done? You weren’t going to beg him to love you but what was his final straw? As much as you hate this, you can’t hate him, you can’t blame him for falling out of love it happens to people all the time.
But yeah, the woods sound nice. You’ve always told yourself if love never worked out, it would be a secluded life. A garden to tend to, hunting, you wouldn’t have to bump into very many reminders as the reminders in your mind were enough. So, through the tears and aching chest, you get to packing and searching.
You weren’t sure if you were ever going to be okay. But outside of loving him, being alone was muscle memory…
You’ll make do.
———
*A Year Later*
A life in the woods wasn’t so bad. Your fruits, vegetables, and herbs were flourishing, your gourds were thriving. You had some chickens for eggs and for things you didn’t have, you always traveled on foot to the farmers market on the outskirts.
Life out here was simple but it was far from easy just yet.
Your last night at the house, Noah tried to talk it out once more but you’d told him the damage is done.
“Just give me time to get back to who I was,” he’d said.
But you didn’t have time. You didn’t need him to be who he once was because you know there are different versions someone grows to be, meaning you have to learn to love every new edition of them. You put in the effort to love every version of him but unfortunately, his idea of love just didn’t evolve with him, leaving you high and dry.
There were nights where you still called for him in the midst of your cries but then there were days where it was easier to swallow. You’d genuinely secluded yourself. No social media. You had cut off any communication with everyone, they didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and ghosting but they have to understand… you had no place in their circle anymore and it wouldn’t feel right.
If you stayed in contact with them you wouldn’t have healed, not even the slightest bit. You’d always want to ask about him, you would always hope that they would tell you that he misses you. You couldn’t do that to yourself.
There’s times where you still want to call him, see what he’s up to, but instead of sending messages or making the mistake of calling him. You write letters that will never be sent. Telling him of all that you’ve endured over the past year.
So you write and write and write as a form of closure to move on with your life.
It was a light morning. You woke up before sunrise as you always do, cup of earl grey in your hands as you sit in your rocking chair, taking in the view of the squirrels running, the birds chirping and the beetles flying by.
Things still weren’t easy but you were keeping your head above water.
A sweet noise pulls you from your thoughts and you set your mug down on the side table, it was practically empty at this point but you’d make a mental note to get it later.
You make your way through the quiet, cool cabin, hearing the noise louder. Your gown brushing against your calves with each step.
As you make your way into your room, a part of you still longs to see pictures of you and him hanging on the walls as if you were back at the house. Micro-dosing delusion here and there wasn’t too big of a deal. You were still healing after all.
Your body carries you closer to your bed and the white cradle that was attached.
Peaking your head over to see a pair of little hazel eyes looking up at you in adoration.
“Hi, baby girl,” you coo softly, lifting her up and hearing her little grunts as she stretches, “Always an early bird just like your mama, huh?,”
You bounce her in your arms as you make your way to the kitchen to pull a brick of breast milk out of the freezer.
“I had my tea and you’ll have your morning beverage shortly,”
You don’t know why you talked to her as if she could understand you, but you enjoyed it. She was calm when you talked, so you figured she liked it.
You take your time to wrap her up into your chest so you could have her close with free arms as you craft her bottle.
“This would be a lot easier if I had help huh?,” you tighten the straps so she’s snug and secure while you’re both also comfortable, “But, It’s just you and me, Sunshine,”
Noelle was short of three months old so all she really did was shine her eyes at you and smile.
“But we’re gonna be okay!,” you cheer, testing her milk on your wrist, deeming it just the right temperature before taking her to the couch to feed her.
She had Noah’s nose, his eye shape, she even had his Cupid’s bow above her top lip, she had your cheeks, your hair and your frown of concentration. She was perfect and even if you were alone you were going to be the best damn parent you could be.
A part of you knows you should have told him when you found out but… you figured he’d be too busy to take care of a baby. He still had so much time on the road, he wouldn’t give that up.
So… it was just you and Noelle, you two against the world.
She babbles as you adjust your wrap to angle her properly to feed her.
“You are my sunshine,” you sing, smiling so proudly to yourself. You’d never expected to find yourself in this position but she was your reason to keep going. To not give up.
“And no one will take my sunshine away,”
After feeding her and cleaning up the cabin, you decided to head to the farmer’s market for some fresh meat and honey.
Noelle was in her stroller enjoying the smooth ride on the path. It was only a 10 minute walk and it was a great time to look at the pretty leaves and listen to what the wind has to say as it whisks past you.
When you hear all the laughing and chatter is when you know you’re close to the market. You’re a regular so although you’ve come to enjoy the lack of human interaction, you love seeing the smile on the faces of the vendors you shop with.
When you’re off the path, you see how packed it is and get overwhelmed.
“We got this, Sunshine,” you sigh to her, smiling and booping her nose, “Your mama did this to herself really, made herself damn near agoraphobic- oh shoot, shouldn’t cuss in front of you. Don’t store that in your subconscious anywhere!,”
All she could do was smile at you, not understanding a single word you said.
“Meat, oat milk, and fresh honey. That’s it! Should be easy right?,”
You stroll to the milk truck and wave at the elderly woman in the window,
“Hey there, Y/N!,”
“Hi, Ms. Ernie!,” smiling brightly. Ms. Ernie was a sweetheart and always special made oat milk for you. She doesn’t sell it much but she makes sure to keep it on hand just for you.
“How are you and your little Plum?,” she’s always called Noelle that, when you found out you were pregnant with her she was about the size of a plum, and when you met Ms. Ernie she could tell you had a lot on your mind, so, she sat and talked with you and gave you your first gallon of milk on the house, it was a nice glass bottle with her logo on it that you now use as a vase for flowers.
“Can’t complain! She’s growing up so fast!,”
“It’s my milks doing!,” she pointed and winked, “It’s making mama strong which is making her strong,”
“You got me there. I gotta admit it,” you joked with her. It was always like this. She was like a grandma to you and the conversations were always wholesome.
After purchasing your milk she throws in a small container.
“I’m making yogurt now! It’s got that oat milk ya like so let me know what ya think! And don’t be a stranger, come into town and have some dinner sometime,”
You verbalized how grateful you were for her kindness and took her up on her offer. It did get a little overwhelming trying to cook dinner and take care of an infant all on your own while also tending to a garden and a chicken coop.
You bid your goodbyes and make your way to the local honey tent.
“Hey, Y/N!,” a young man waved
“Hi, Reid!,”
“And hello little miss sunshine!,” he peaked his head around the stroller, as soon as your daughter sees him she squeals and kicks her feet, she loves Reid. He tickles her and chuckles before standing up and waving his hand to his table.
“What are we having today? We’ve got some new flavors; Orange Blossom, Blueberry Blossom, Lavender- we even got them in sticks so you can try before you buy,” he trails off.
“Can I get my normal wildflower aaaand I’ll try the orange blossom,” you point the sample sized container.
Reid bags everything up nicely for you and you watch him throw a few of the new flavor sticks in the bag before you pay.
“Enjoy, Y/N!,”
Once you give your goodbyes to Reid, you’re on your way to the next truck. Phyllis and her husband, Dan, greet you just as they always do and you order your meats and cuts the way you like them and are all set to head back home. You’re almost to the path when you realize there’s one more thing you needed.
“Shoot, Sunshine. I need bread!,” You turn yourself around to see where the bread truck is and bump into an unsuspecting soul. Neither of you paying attention.
“Oh goodness! I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, helping him pick up his bag of goods.
“Y/N?,”
You stop what you’re doing. You recognize that voice anywhere. After years of being near it and talking with him, it was unmistakable. You slowly raise your head to make eye contact with him.
“M-Matt?,” you hand him his fallen apple and step in front of your stroller, obscuring his view of Noelle.
“What are you- where have you been? We’ve been worried sick,”
“I can’t talk to you,” You reply with a shaky tone, “I can’t handle it right now. Just act like you never saw me,”
He frowns at your words, disheartened at how you could seem so scared of him. Not physically but mentally, emotionally even. You were doing so well and now… here is a physical reminder of your past life.
Birthing Noelle was different because while she did have features of her father, she was a reminder of the future and what is to come but seeing Matt right now pushed you all the way back to where you were emotionally a year ago.
He notices the stroller behind you but before he can get a word out, you’re cutting him off.
“No,” you grit through your teeth, “No! Don’t even,” you point at him
“Does he know?,”
“I don’t owe any of you anything,”
“She looks just like him, Y/N”
“Stop it!,” you hold your hand up to quiet him, “I have been through hell and back trying to heal. I don’t need this right now. Go about your day, you didn’t see me, you didn’t see anything!,”
“He deserves to know,”
“I can’t let him back in my life. If he finds out, he will be around and I won’t get better! He’ll take her away from me,”
“It’s not about you or him. If he has a baby, he deserves to know and she deserves a dad. He wouldn’t take her from you, he wouldn’t do that,”
“I can’t take that chance, Matt. He broke up with me, he fell out of love because tour and the fame was too much. How do you expect him to juggle being a father when he couldn’t even juggle being a boyfriend! If you tell him and he comes after me, I will NEVER forgive you!,”
“What’s going on?,” you turn to your left and see Reid coming to stand between you and Matt, “Is he bothering you?,”
“We’re friends,” Matt defends himself. This is getting a lot bigger than what you needed right now.
“Yeah? Well it doesn’t seem that way. So if you could, please leave. She looks uncomfortable,”
“Y/N, please,” he begged. He hadn’t seen nor heard from you in over a year, all of you were a family and it’s been hard to process for all of them how you were there one day then gone without a trace.
“You should go, Matt,” you hide behind Reid and wait until he leaves. He stood there waiting to see if you’d change your mind but when you didn’t, he got the hint and went on his way.
“I’ll wait till he’s gone then I’ll have Morgan watch the tent, I’ll walk you home,”
“Thank you,” your voice was barely above a whisper, you wipe your tears and you turn around to crouch down in front of Noelle, making sure she’s okay, she’s half asleep, usually you’re back at the cabin by now to put her down for a nap but this little scuffle pushed it back.
“Is there anything you need before we leave? I saw you turn back around like you forgot something,”
“I… I needed bread,”
“What kind?,”
“Pumpernickel and sourdough,”
“I’ll be right back,”
“Reid, you don’t have to,”
“I got it,” he rests a hand on your shoulders to calm you down. A lot happen just now, it made sense why your nerves would be all over the place
You decided not to protest as he was already on his way over to the bread truck. You look back to Noelle and see she’s finally out like a light just that quick.
Matt’s words began echoing in your mind as you stare at her. Why couldn’t today have just been like any other day? What are the fucking odds that he ends up at this market in particular? You know he loves them but there’s one closer to the city that’s his favorite. Why’d he have to come out to the countryside?
Was this a coincidence or was it somehow planned? You know for sure he’s going to tell Noah, that’s his best friend and you don’t know how to handle any of it. They don’t know where you live but now you’re worried they’ll come out here looking for you, which means you’ll have to ask Reid to do a weekly pick up and drop off. You know he won’t mind but you hate asking for help.
He deserves to know
It’s like tinnitus now. Just an irritating ringing in your ears that won’t go away.
But as you stare at your daughter, you realize she was an embodiment of the bright rays that peaked through the cloud that rained over your head for months. She was your sunshine.
And no one would take your sunshine away.
——————
——————
Let me know if you want a part two or if I should leave it open ended like this? 👀
Be sure to comment and reblog! Much love!
tags: @lma1986
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dreamwritersworld · 1 year ago
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On the run…
just a disclaimer that this has been the longest since I’ve posted and this isn’t a for sure series! I’ve been super busy lately and I took a break because writing felt more like a need then something I wanted to do, i’m kinda back now and I hope you enjoy it 💕
Neteyam and I grew up together, we were very close. I grew to love him and I believe he felt that way too…until we were told that we would be promised to each other…Neteyam didn’t liked the fact that he felt tied down without having a choice. He was perfect at everything but being a good promised mate to Y/n.
Y/n however was very good. She comforted Neteyam when he was stressed about his father and she’d give him calming oils and treatment to relax him..
There were nights where Neteyam was absent, one night Y/n decided to hug Neteyam even with him pushing her off…
“I can smell her. Her scent. Irya.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Stop it! I caught you. And you’re not going to talk your way out of this. How many Neteyam? How many are there? How many have there been?”
“What does it matter? Hmm? We still are promised to each other and have no choice but to be mated. But irya is willing to take in that void until then. And maybe…maybe that’s better for everybody.”
Y/n scoffed at his attitude towards the situation…the man she loved, the boy she grew up with, had become so heartless to her.
“You know what, it’s better for you! You have a pretty good deal don’t you? You go out! You fool around! I sit here, I take care of your home and the clan. Well no more! That’s it.”
“Calm down!”
“No! I’m not going to do this anymore! Ok? I’m not going to sit here and take it and take it! Sorry! I love you, yes! But I am not dirt! I am promised to you! And you will not do this to me anymore-“
“Enough! I’ll stop! It’s fine. But you will not raise your voice at me. We will not do anything until we are to be mated.”
Y/n watched as Neteyam turned his back to go lay on the hammock with a blanket that Y/n made and cleaned just for him. If this was how things were going to be…it pained her completely but he came home didn’t he? He came home to her..?
She slept that night right beside him…cold and crying. He didn’t ever hold her while she slept..not like how they did when they were younger.
Truth was Neteyam didn’t sleep with Irya, no he could never. He just laid with her…he knew her scent was enough to break Y/n’s heart further…
~~
I stayed strong…I dealt with the pain and still claimed him proudly and openly…waiting on the day he called out my name.
I said I didn’t feel nothing but I lied, I almost cut a piece of myself for his love.
The passing Navi’s would smile at me and ask how Neteyam was…I would responded proudly.
“Ah yes Neteyam! He is doing well! Very good!”
Oh how I wished I didn’t get this treatment…I wish I could’ve been able to choose. In all honesty I would’ve still chosen Neteyam but it’d be on my terms..can’t say the same for him.
My days had an endless routine, I felt so trapped. I wanted Neteyam to stay even though he didn’t want me. Why can’t he wait till I fall out of love?
After everything going on…the war…the panic. It was decided that we’d have to give up our home and roles of the clan…everything. That meant every last tear, blood shed and sweat that Neteyam and I sacrificed to be the next leaders were wasted. Just because I was leaving didn’t mean I wasn’t no longer promised to Neteyam, he had all of me.
The move was so difficult and I didn’t know how else to comfort someone who didn’t want to be loved by me…but when he let me hold him, it gave me hope.
“We’ll be ok Ma’tyem”
The journey was long and tiring…it dragged and made our bodies sore…weak. Riding beside Neteyam made it worth it, all I could do was focus on him and how beautiful he truly was. Taking in his presence was my best bet at loving him from afar. Something about finding a new home and having a new adventure felt good despite leaving my entire life behind..
When we had arrived, nervousness ran through my veins…I allowed myself to be the last of the group to get off, watched how Neteyam protected his siblings and remained respectful just like his father.
I walked in cautiously repeating Neteyam’s same action and passing small smiles to those I had made eye contact with and then suddenly I made eye contact with someone who caught my attention …it was a boy who seemed about our age, instead of giving disgusted looks like he was before he froze. Soon enough the soften look in his eyes brought me into confusion, and I turned away. A warm unfamiliar arm wrapped around my waist, tuggin me forward and I couldn’t help but be more focused as to what was wrong.
Neteyam never held me, not anymore…not like when we were children. He pushed me to listen to the leader of the clan..that’s when I discovered the beautiful girl who Lo’ak shared a moment with was Tsireya and the boy I briefly noticed was Ao’nung..both children of the clans leaders. My ears went up and tail swayed at the new introduction, new people? New setting? Absolutely brought me bliss.
Unpacking was draining and having to now share a mauri with a full family was something I’d have to get used to, I didn’t mind though. I grew up with the Sully’s and remained very tight with all siblings…Neteyam included until our parents suggested we’d be mated. Of course I loved that idea…but Neteyam felt forced, it made him hate me.
It was another night of falling asleep beside Neteyam except this time he turned his body towards me and loosely had his arm around me. It was then that I realized I missed his touch so much and I’d settle with this even if it only meant he was doing it to prevent his family from questioning the separation.
I had butterflies take over me, placing my hand on top of his…only for him to pull his hand away and lay it on my hip, furthering any more affection..
Soon the sun rises and I woke up early to help prep meals for everyone with Neytiri, to her I was perfect. In my eyes I was far from it, not even able to satisfy her child.
I made my way sitting quietly next to Neteyam, my mind was still focused of last night’s interactions and our relationship…soon enough the loudness and spinning in my head only begged me to just take a moment for myself, I paused my eating and excused myself…but walking away I can hear my childhood best friends speak.
“What’s wrong with her?..she’s been quiet.”
“She’s always quiet Lo’ak-“
Kiri was one of the only people who noticed the great shift in Y/n. They grew up together, Y/n was open to Kiri about her crush on Neteyam and she never told any one although she enjoyed the idea of them together, it made her so happy when they were promised…but now after a couple of months with them together, Kiri could see something was weighing Y/n down.
“Not always! She only starts to get quiet when Neteyam’s around! You make her nervous bro! Y/n’s been in love with you since we were kids and now you guys are going to be all lovey, dovey once your Mated!!!”
Neteyam couldn’t even reply, it wasn’t that he didn’t love you…or maybe he didn’t? He himself, couldn’t understand his feelings towards you. Neteyam just wanted time to choose his mate and who he loved.
He was truly living his fathers dream, sacrificing his life to repay and honor his parents sacrifice. Would he had chosen Y/n, his once childhood crush as his mate? Would he have done it if he wasn’t forced? He didn’t know.
Y/n took in Lo’ak’s word..she did only get quiet around Neteyam, she knew how quickly and easily it was to annoy him.
*flashback*
It was the beginning of their relationship and he couldn’t be anymore closed off with her. All Y/n wanted to do was love him and be a perfect mate to him. So when he walked through the door…that’s exactly what she did.
“Neteyam, I’ve made you dinner! Your favorite!”
“Not hungry.”
His response was short but however, what made the two perfect was that no matter how calm and collected she was…she remain optimistic.
“Ok! That’s fine! I’ll prep it for you in the morning, when you’re ready to go back to training-“
“Y/n! How many times do I have to say it? I’m not hungry! I do not want your food! Just be quiet!…voice is annoying…relationship is business only..”
Y/n perfectly heard his last muttered words and it brought her to tears as she wrapped his food up, she had stayed up late waiting to eat with him once he arrived home…but now he laid in bed. Y/n blew the candles providing light and closed the tent enough just for a little moonlight to shed as she provided him a calm setting to fall asleep in while she struggle to eat in the dark.
Neteyam could see though, he saw her tears roll down her face and her hand quiver as her eyebrows furrowed and head shake as if telling her that it’ll all be ok. It took everything in him to not apologize for being so cold, but he couldn’t..not now when he was so frustrated.
*
Y/n lost her optimistic side…instead of being calm, she slowly was just pulling herself into a fiery state. After so much coldness could you blame her? She didn’t have any time for playing around or a moment for herself..but now with this new home, she did.
There it was Y/n sat outside taking in the sunrise and fresh breeze, she was just starting to relax when Kiri interrupted
“So…I’ve been meaning to ask but nothing feels like the right time but…are you ok? Like I mean really ok? I can feel your energy Y/n.”
It took Y/n by surprise and it only took Kiri to see her face for her to know whatever she was going to say next was a lie. That’s exactly how it all played out, Y/n had her mouth slightly open in shock and then she smiled, not a true one thought just a small one with closed lips.
“Of course Kiri!…it’s just the move.”
Silence stood between them, Kiri could see the little white lies Y/n told herself and it hurt her. Y/n was never one to be standoffish or guarded.
“Right..well soon enough we’ll start training to get used to this environment-“
“Hello! We’re here to start training”
Both girls looked at Tsireya in surprise and soon settled into a smile, excited to finally have a taste of something new. Y/n stood proud and tall before tsireya, she admired it truly. To tsireya if she would’ve stayed at the forest she would’ve been a perfect leader for the people…what could’ve been.
“I’ll go ahead and get the others! Excuse me.”
Ao’nung watched from a far…Y/n was captivating to him. Her voice and the way she walked presented herself with confidence.
His smile stayed until he saw her stand beside Neteyam, they walked together as one but in silence.
They all trailed after each other one by one. Ao’nung tried to slow down so that his speed would align with Y/n’s but it just didn’t happen.
Tsireya decided to start by swimming first and excitement erupted amongst Kiri and Y/n as they grabbed each others hands swimming down around the corals of the reef.
Ao’nung pushed the rest of the group forward and he allowed his sister to take over as he glanced over to Y/n doing flips around the ocean and viewing the fishes in amazement. Y/n put herself in tune with the ocean..if she was going to live here she had to act as one of the people.
Neteyam couldn’t help but notice Y/n staggering behind the group and he rolled his eyes at her childish behavior… when he went up to the surface with everyone else gasping for air, he looked back beneath the water..he saw Ao’nung swim over to Y/n, watch them exchange smiles while swimming up beside each other.
“You’re pretty good for a beginner! I can show you how to-“
“Y/n!-“
neteyam was going to interrupt but he was quickly interrupted by his own little sister, gasping onto Y/n’s arms and his arms.
Y/n quickly passed a smile at Ao’nung as she now turned her attention to Tuk cradling her while Neteyam fixed Y/n’s hair from getting caught onto Tuk.
The sudden touch caught Y/n by surprise, she was quick to turn her head in confusion until Tysireya’s voice brought them back to focus
“It’s fine if your not the best right now…we should try getting you guys on ilu’s! I’m sure you’ll love it!”
Another tug to another direction, telling Y/n to swim with him. There was not a chance Neteyam was going to leave Y/n with Ao’nung when it was clear to him, he was trying to get close to her.
this interaction between the two didn’t fly past Y/n she didn’t understand what Neteyam was trying to do. Once practice ended she allowed the group to go past and speak amongst each other while she began tugging back at Neteyam’s arm to walk with her. They said their goodbyes respectfully and Y/n held onto Neteyam the entire time.
“What are you doing? You have a role to withhold still Neteyam. Be respectful. You must remember that this isn’t our home.”
“Me? What am I doing wrong? You must’ve forgot that you have to withhold your role with me. You are my future mate do not forget.”
“I haven’t done anything that can make you imply that I have, are you kidding?”
“So why are you getting friendly with-“
“This is not our land. Our relationship has been in shambles because of you-“
“How dare you blame me? What? Because i went out to get my needs done so I can keep pushing to Be with you. I did it for us.
Tears welled up in Y/n’s eyes as she realized he was now the one blaming her for their relationship.
“I’d rather go blind then to see you walk away from me, with another women. I never asked you to do that.”
“But it needed to be done Y/n, you can’t maintain me.”
“This isn’t my fault Neteyam please stop. I’m not doing anything wrong. I haven’t gotten overly friendly with anyone. Just stop.”
“Don’t talk to Ao’nung Y/n, I’m not asking you.”
“I don’t need you telling me it either. I have to remain mutual and respectful to everyone, even if it means speaking to them.”
“You will be disrespecting me-“
“Please, this is barley scratching the surface of what you’ve done to me. This relationship is business only. Isn’t that what you said? So then stick to your words. It stopped meaning anything to me the moment you started acting this way.”
She was lying, but she wanted to shoot a bullet at him just like he did to her. When she looked back at Neteyam she didn’t notice the pain flushing his eyes or that fact that his heart was beating rapidly, he truly hurt hearing her stand up to him. It hurt him to see that he can’t seem to keep her close and let her go. He knew though, he still had her…even if it meant she was speaking back.
Later on in the night when it was time to eat, Y/n made sure to start a conversation with Tuk to make sure she was settling in well. Tuk pulled her arm to sit with her and Y/n did. Kiri quickly sat next to Y/n sensing something was wrong with her. This left Neteyam to sit in front of her, though Y/n didn’t even bat an eye at him.
“Did you see all the fishes down there Y/n?!”
“Oh I did Tuk! They were beautiful!!”
Jake had interrupted their conversation discussing the clan and asking how the children were treating them.
“Ao’nung sucks and Tsireya is really nice.”
Lo’ak was clearly biased to Tsireya based on the way he was smiling so his opinion flew out the window in Jake’s eyes.
Everyone began speaking quickly and clashed their words together as Y/n watched trying to follow everyone’s words.
“Mmh I barley heard a thing anyone said…what about you Y/n how were they?”
Jake knew Y/n had a thing with words, she was descriptive and knew how to speak properly. She observed everything there was to a person.
“Tsireya was sweet, attentive while teaching and patient. Ao’nung was witty, quick to say something and less patient. Overall they are good people-“
“Please Y/n Ao’nung was the worst, maybe not to you!”
Lo’ak had spoken in a teasing voice, implying something he shouldn’t. Jake had shut down his youngest teasing seeing it as a learning lesson
“It’s about being respectful. The face that you had while learning their ways probably didn’t help Ao’nungs remarks. Your face tells everything, Y/n knew how to behave.”
Neteyam grew silent only looking at Y/n and his food, quietly pushing for her to say more.
“Yes correct, this isn’t our home yet..but we must learn their ways with a positive attitude.”
The tension felt visible to the couple sitting across from each other and it continued when Y/n looked up at Neteyam after saying the statement.
She got up attempting to remain calm, picking up her meal and placing it to the side. After cleaning up and paying her respects she resided off to the side not facing Neteyam if he were to sleep on her hammock…
There it is that dip of him crawling back to my bed, enraging me over and over again without a care in the world that he hurt me.
*💕*
remember that this isn’t a for sure series, it’s definitely not perfect either I’m just trying to get into the groove of things again :))
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fl3shm4id3n · 1 year ago
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ₜₕₑ ₗₒₛₜ ₚᵣᵢₙcₑₛₛ
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮��𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞.
ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: Astarion talks about his past.
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Ever since you met Astarion, he had a feeling that you were more than just a person. He was very observant. He saw how you somehow always had very fancy jewelry which you'd often sell or exchange for coin as well these fine clothing you'd carry with you. Those objects were things that normally nobility would own, but your just was just too precious and seemed very priceless. They look like something queens and princesses would own and wear. This caught his attention. Not only that, but when you'd be in a huge city, you'd get nervous when you'd see guards and missing and wanted posters on the walls. Sometimes you'd tear them off and crumble them up, placing them in your satchel bag. Where you a wanted criminal or something? He got very curious on what was going on with you.
That day you along with your traveling members where in the city, you were all tired from walking around and fighting off villains along with other creatures. You thought it would be good to stay at a inn. So you pulled out your last remaining hairpins and decided to maybe sell them. So you went to a jewelry stall and talked to the owner. The man was surprised to see that you had such fine hairpins and it was almost unbelievable to him. While you did that, Astarion had decided to look around a bit, to get to know the city a bit. As he walked, he spotted something that caught his eye.
When he approached, he saw a wanted poster. The poster was a yellow colored paper with a drawing of someone. That someone looked just like you. Except this lady hair was pinned up like a work of art with hairpins and flowers, not only that, but she also had a beautiful red and white dress. He thought of it for a moment, then it clicked. This had to be you, that explains why you had those priceless objects. This was you! You were a princess, a missing one at that. He then took the paper off the wall and placed it in his pocket. He wanted to know more about why you were 'missing'.
That night you were getting ready for bed in the room of the inn. You got enough gold to get everyone an individual room, mainly so that they could have privacy. As you were taking off your shoes, you heard someone coming in. "Can I come in?" it was Astarion who was peaking his head in through the door. "I mean, you're already coming in, so come on in." You said, turning to face him. Astarion slipped right in with a small smirk on his lips, and hiding something behind him.
"Something wrong?" You asked. "Oh no darling, nothing is wrong. I just wanted to ask you about this." He responded, revealing the paper that he had hidden. You felt your stomach drop. That is not what you wanted, for one of your companions to find out about your secret. "Where did you get that??" you asked, now panicking. "I was looking around, and I saw it." He said, turning the paper and looking at it. "You look very beautiful darling. Like a true, princess." He commented, admiring the drawing of you, dressed like a princess. There was no hiding it anymore, he already knew and he was not going to leave you alone until you tell him.
You sighed, rubbing your face. "Yes, I am a princess." You admitted defeated. Looking down at the wooden floor and holding your head up with your hands. "Why didn't you say anything?" he said, still looking at the poster. "Because, I didn't know if you or the other party members would turn me in!" You admitted. That was resealable. He himself is also probably being looked for. "Well darling, if it makes you feel better, I wouldn't turn you in for anything. But tell me. Why did you run away from your palace?" He asked, curiously.
"Because being a princess fells like a prison. I have no choices to make, I have to constantly listen to what my father says, no questions asked. My mother isn't any better, she's worst. Often telling me what to do and how to think, same goes with the governess." You added, sounding annoyed. This surprised him a lot. "Hm, and here I thought all princesses lived in luxury, getting everything that they ever wanted." He commented. "No, that's just a silly rumor." You said, with a sad sigh. "For once I wanted to think for myself, so I left. I left home, and sure as hells I'm not going back, they'll have to kill me first." You explained to him.
Astarion understood your reasoning, he too knew how it was like having to not be able to think for himself and make his own decisions. "Hm, I know how that's like. Except you weren't tortured or made to eat rats like I did." He said. You both stayed silent for a moment. Then he spoke. "Don't worry darling, your secret is safe with me." He said to you with a small smile. "Wait, so you won't tell anyone about who I really am?" you asked. He shook his head. "Nope, not one soul." He said, he sounded genuine. You believed that he wouldn't do that. "Alright, I trust you." You responded. Astarion gave you a small grin. "So, can I call you your highness? or how about your grace?" He asked, he was now teasing. This made you almost gag. "Ugh, don't call me by those names please." You said. "But why not? You are a princess my dear." He reminded you, only causing you to roll your eyes. "Goodnight." You said, flopping to your bed. "Oh goodnight, your highness." He said with a grin as he walked out of your room. All you could do is sigh in instant regret.
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solarissun · 8 months ago
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We are never, ever getting back together.
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afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis
Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.
WC: 3.9k
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character
A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!
✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩
You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.
⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎
You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.
As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.
So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.
After a few moments, you see him.
Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.
Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.
“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”
After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.
Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.
He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.
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All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.
The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.
You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.
You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.
You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.
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Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.
Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.
You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.
After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.
You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.
Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.
A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.
You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability
After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.
After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.
After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.
You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.
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Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.
You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.
You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.
What. The. Fuck.
Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.
This means war.
You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.
“I need you, Clapton.”
He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.
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During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.
So, now you’re choosing Clapton.
A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.
You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”
“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.
He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.
He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”
The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.
You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.
His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.
He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.
“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.
He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.
He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.
You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.
Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.
You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.
He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.
You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.
The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.
“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.
You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.
“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.
“Round two?”
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Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.
“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.
As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.
“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.
Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.
“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.
“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.
You’ve always hated that look.
He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.
You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.
“God, what am I doing?”
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huenyang · 8 months ago
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn reader / genre: fluff, established relationship / word count: 956 / notes: this was meant to be way shorter uuu i wanted to write smth like this bc i am So full of love and proud of him....
summary: sometimes, it feels like nothing is enough to truly express yourself. this is commonplace when it comes to hyunjin.
hyunjin is tired.
actually, tired doesn't even begin to cover it. the way exhaustion hangs heavy onto his very bones and drips off his fingertips like molasses. it’s hard, but it’s rewarding work, being an idol. he wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if the tiredness seeps straight into every cell of his body and causes a faint headache to thrum behind his temples at times.
it’s in times like these that he’s glad to have you.
you who always brings him medicine when he complains about his head hurting, who will run him a bath when he’s too tired to do so himself, who will greet him with a nice dinner when you know his schedules are heavy on him.
that’s how he finds himself today, sinking into the couch as a tired sigh leaves his body and takes away all the tension of the day with it. he’s sweaty, his body hurts from the busy week he’s had, and yet he can’t bring himself to get back up on his feet right now.
it doesn’t take long for you to appear in the corner of his vision, having heard the door open but not done with what you were doing yet.
hyunjin still almost can’t believe the way your face brightens up when you see him - every time without fail. it’s almost as if your eyes sparkle when they land on him, the most loving smile stretching across your face as you beeline for where he lays miserably.
the couch dips slightly with your weight as you lean down to kiss his nose, so close that he could count your eyelashes if he tried.
“welcome back, honey.” the words are barely a whisper, and yet they seem to echo in the quiet of the room.
he hums as you kiss the tip of his nose ever so slightly - teasingly, almost. he knows you’re about to get back up and suddenly, he can’t have that. with a gentle tug he guides you into lying on his chest.
it’s a little precarious. he knows he still smells like a concert venue - sweaty and sticky and gross despite his and the staff’s efforts - but you don’t move to try and get away from him, so he’ll take that as a win.
“ew,” you start, grimacing as you feel the clammy expanse of his chest against your face. “you’re gross.”
he laughs, light and airy.
“but you’re not moving. so do you really mind it?”
“you’re still disgusting.” you smack his shoulder with a huff, which in turn earns you another bark of laughter from hyunjin. as revenge, he snakes his arms around your waist, further securing you against your damp prison.
the conversation fades eventually, you both falling into a familiar and comfortable silence as you accept your fate. the entire time, the smile that paints hyunjin’s features looks almost innocent - you knew better, though.
hwang hyunjin was, possibly, the most annoying man on earth when it came to you.
despite your current predicament, you wiggle enough to stare up at him. it’s jarring, honestly, the way he looks so good even from the most unflattering angles. you know that he’d deny this vehemently if you were to say it, but it does nothing to sway your opinion on it.
you’ve taken to tracing little imaginary patterns on his arms now, anything to keep your hands busy.
“you know,” you start, low, as if you’re scared that speaking too loud will shatter the moment “i’m really proud of you.”
hyunjin’s mouth opens like he’s about to either question you or deflect the compliment with some stupid reason, but you continue faster than he can speak.
“for everything. you’ve come so far already, it’s been, what, six years? that’s a really long time. you’re so wonderful sometimes i can’t even process that you’re real. that you’re you!”
you know you’re rambling, and you really don’t mean to, but there’s simply too much to say about hyunjin. honestly if given the chance you could probably go on and on and about him.
but you’d never let hyunjin know this. his ego would inflate so much he’d float right into space and never come back down.
somewhere in your rambling, you’d averted your eyes from hyunjin’s face, now instead staring a hole into the couch. when you look at him again, his eyes are wide and unblinking and wet.
you can feel your own tears sting your eyes the more you look at him, lip quivering just the slightest bit. you never considered yourself a crybaby or particularly sensitive, but seeing the man tear up tugged at your heartstrings in ways you previously thought impossible.
the next time you speak, your voice cracks just a bit. “thank you, for being born. for being you. for loving me.”
hyunjin blinks. once, twice, and suddenly there are tears down his face. at this point you can barely hold yourself together, too, so instead you bury your head into his chest and wrap your arms tight around his middle.
crying was the last thing you expected to do today. it was a day just like any other, but the overwhelming love you felt for your boyfriend apparently spoke louder than the monotony of everyday life.
in return, you can feel hyunjin’s own arms grip you tighter in a hug, his nose burying into the top of head and the gentlest of kisses placed upon it. he’s sniffling, and you feel it when he brings a hand to wipe his eyes, but still, he clears his throat and speaks, in one of the shakiest voices you’ve heard from him yet.
“thank you, too. i couldn’t have done it without you. i love you."
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delumimi · 1 year ago
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Trouble Sleeping?
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Summary: You are tired of Leon’s snoring.
Gender: Fluff.
Pairing: Death Island Leon x Reader.
A/N: I had to redo this twice ‘cause it got deleted but anyways this is so short i am sorry, I have to clarify that english isn’t my native language so I apologize for any grammar errors, enjoy!
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Your marriage with Leon was all you could’ve asked for after so many years of being in love with him, 3 years of dating and now 1 freshly year of marriage, you are so grateful to have someone like Leon as a partner. You respect him and he respects you and there’s no doubt that you two love each other intensely.
However… That doesn’t mean you don’t have problems.
You were currently in your bedroom bed staring deeply at the ceiling stuck in thoughts with a strong frown on your face, sitting up a little you take a look at the clock
2:45 AM.
Leon had an annoying habit at snoring so loud at night, and you understood that he was tired after returning from missions, poor boy never gets to relax at his job but as much as you loved him, you needed to rest tonight.
Sighing, you turn to your side to observe his peaceful state, you almost felt guilty for having to wake him up but he lead you no option.
You raise your hand and place it against his mouth attempting to shut him up for once. To your surprise, Leon stirs a little in his sleep but roughly, he turns to his other side kicking his legs almost throwing you out of the bed. Snoring even louder.
This motherfucker….
Alright, challenge accepted.
You look around trying to find something until an idea crosses your mind.
Smiling wickedly, you take a small pillow and turn to his side again.
You press the pillow on his mouth carefully enough to not suffocate him as you search his face looking for any signs of discomfort but you don’t see any.
The snoring stops but now noises are coming out of his lips thanks to the pillow making pressure on it, making him look like he is beatboxing.
Okay, this was definitely it.
You pat his chest now seriously wanting him to wake up.
“Leon.” You whisper quietly so you don’t scare him as he wakes up.
But… No response.
Sighing you pat his chest harder this time.
“Leon? Wake up.” You tell him again firmly.
Still no response.
“Leon! Wake uuuup.” You start to shake his body roughly this time, getting desperate but he doesn’t react.
What is he? A bear hibernating or something?
You start to get more annoyed, Leon was never a deep sleeper but when he came back exhausted he attempted to be one, and that never irritated you… Well until now.
You are not gonna get away with this Kennedy.
You place yourself at his lap, raising your hand to gently slap him- not enough to hurt but to let him know that you are there.
“Leeeooon.” You repeat the same movements, groaning since he doesn’t wake up. You stare at the clock again.
3:05 AM.
You slap him again harder and he finally reacts, squinting his eyes a little, but just before he talks, you slap him again with such a force that his head turns to his side and you are pretty sure that if it was daytime you will be able to see the red mark on his cheek.
He looks at you so shocked… Like you killed his entire family and burned them in front of him.
“Wha- What was that for?!” He finally speaks after a moment of just looking at each other.
“I don’t know… You tell me.” I talk back at him crossing your arms in your chest.
He stays silent rubbing his eyes looking at you.
“Good morning to you too.”
“It’s 3AM Leon.” You said rolling your eyes.
“Then why would wake me up? Did something happen?” He asks confused and a little concerned looking at you still shocked about the slap thing.
“Nothing happened Leon…” You reassured him. “But did you ever realized you snore a lot?”
“Snore?” He looks at his side and then at you. “I don’t snore.”
“Yes. Yes you do, and loud.” You remark the final part. “You even woke me up, I had to slap you.”
“Okay” He paused. “I am sorry love but you didn’t had to slap me.” He rubs his cheek looking at you a little offended.
“Oh believe me. I had to.” You give him a final look before laying down on the bed, your back facing him. Sighing contently you embrace your pillow. Closing your eyes feeling the sleepiness kick in.
Finally, some peaceful sleep.
“I don’t snore loud.” You heard Leon, interrupting your peaceful state.
“Whatever you say.”
…..
“Did I seriously wake you up?” He said with a softer tone this time.
Some shuffling was heard until you feel some strong arms embracing you from behind. Pressing kisses on you neck as a way to say sorry.
“Forgive me?” He whispers.
“I will think about it…”
“I can make it up to you if that’s what you want.” He says and you feel his hands under your blouse lifting it up.
“Go to sleep Leon.” You stop his wrists from going further.
“But-“
“No way you are trying to get me to do funny stuff at 3 in the morning.” You scoffed at him.
“Is it working?”
“No.”
You heard him laugh from behind and can’t help the smile that starts forming at your lips. You turn and press a delicate kiss on his lips.
“There. You are forgiven now let me sleep in peace.” You rest your head on his chest feeling to his heartbeat, somehow it calmed you down on your rougher moments- just listening to it made you feel so safe.
“Alright m’lady.” He presses a kiss on your head pulling even closer even if that was impossible.
Surely it will be a long morning, not having your enough hours of rest always affected you but seeing Leon’s face when you slapped him, you know is worth it.
Smiling you drift off to sleep.
Or that’s what you thought.
Snores.
…….
Whatever, you weren’t even planing to have a good sleep anyway.
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